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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


THE ROMANCE OF A CARIBBEAN 
CRUISE 



Fu FRANKFORT MOORE 

AUTHOR OF THE JESSAMY BRIDE, A NEST OF LINNETS, 
CASTLE OMERAGH, ETC. 



NEW YORK 

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 
MCMIII 


~YZ 3 

rrr|-j 8 2 S'&Z 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two Copies Received 

OCT 26 1903 

C*pyr»ght Entry 

&Cfr. H3, /C/oZ 

CLASS (X. XXa No 

copy a. 


Copyright, 1903, by 
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


CHAPTER I 

“ A small black hand-bag — not very small — ordi- 
nary size. It must be somewhere.” 

“ Who did you give it to, sir?” asked the Stew- 
ard. 

“ A porter or somebody; I took it for granted 
that he belonged to the Company.” 

“ To the ship’s company, sir? ” 

“ The Company — the Company — the Railway 
Company. Hang it all ! is there no one looking after 
the passengers’ luggage? Such mismanagement! It 
had a patch on the bottom — the left-hand corner as 
you unlock it, and one of the brass studs where you 
clasp it was missing.” 

“ Was it labeled, sir? ” 

“ No, it wasn’t labeled, but there was a place for 
a label — a leather label-holder. I should know it in a 
minute. Where’s the Captain? To think that I 
should have traveled all over England and once to 
Ireland, too — the very heart of Ireland — with that 
bag, and it never got lost until the present moment! 
The man offered to carry it aboard for me. I had my 
1 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


rug on my arm and I didn’t want my deck-chair to 
be smashed to atoms — I know what these steamers are 
— I’ve been to Ireland, and I was at the Naval Re- 
view. ’ ’ 

‘ £ I say, Steward, am I to have a cabin to myself ? 
They promised me one at the office.” 

“ What number, sir? ” 

“ 14 B.” 

“ Very sorry, sir, Purser was compelled to put 
some one else in your second bunk.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, confound it ! Is it a man or a woman ? ’ ’ 

“ Only another gentleman, sir.” 

“ Oh, well, that’s not so bad as it might be. Does 
he snore? ” 

“ Can’t say, sir, he’s a stranger to me.” 

“ If he snores I’ll throw him into the scuppers — 
be sure you tell him that. ’ ’ 

“ Yessir.” ■ 

“ Are you the Captain, please? ” 

‘ ‘ No, Miss, I ’m the Steward. ’ ’ 

There was a note of indignation in the disclaimer : 
the Steward had no mind to be taken for so common- 
place an official as the Captain. How would the third 
officer like to be taken for the Doctor? 

“ Perhaps you will do as well. I want to know 
if I can have some of the small-sized Spratt’s dog-bis- 
cuits — not for myself; but I saw a stray cat — I really 
think it might have been a half-Persian — I fancy that 
the small size would be best.” 

“ I say, Steward, can we choose any places that we 
2 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

please in the saloon? The fact is that my wife can’t 
endure the sight of a nigger. If I had known that 
there were nigger waiters aboard this steamer I 
shouldn ’t have come. Could you manage to keep them 
in another part of the ship while the meals are going 
on? It might be serious— it might indeed; she is in a 
very weak state of health- — that ’s why we are going on 
this voyage. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Is the Steward there ? Oh, are you the Steward ? 
Then perhaps you can tell me what’s the name of this 
steamer that we’re aboard of and where we’re bound 
for ? It’s not idle curiosity on my part that makes me 
ask you, only if it ’s the Avon bound for the West In- 
dies, it is twenty minutes past its advertised time for 
sailing. Now, I’ve an appointment at Cuadaloupe 
and if I miss it, I’ll hold the company responsible, so 
you just ” 

“ Plang it all, Steward, what do you mean by al- 
lowing my stable-companion to pile up our cabin with 
his things ? Three portmanteaux, a cabin-trunk, a suit- 
case, a hold-all, a lunch-basket, and a net-sack bursting 
with novels — the worst trash ! I don ’t want to make 
a row, so you’d best come along and fix up things 
before I hoof him and his blessed- ” 

“ Mister — Steward — can my wife have a cup of 
tea and a biscuit before lunch? It’s the only thing 
she fancies and ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Where ’s the Steward ? How is it that he ’s never 
where he’s wanted? What sort of management — oh, 
are you the Steward? ” 


3 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ Yessir.” 

‘ ‘ Then maybe yon can oblige me with a halfpenny 
stamp. ’ ' 

I thought it well at this point to get on deck. I 
had been standing in the companion of the Royal Mail 
Steamer Avon since the arrival of the special train 
from Waterloo a quarter of an hour before, being anx- 
ious to find out if the Steward of an ocean-going 
steamer continues to be baited by newly arrived pas- 
sengers as freely as he used to be in the old days of 
my seafaring. I thought that I had heard enough evi- 
dence to go on with. Only one train-load of passen- 
gers had come aboard the Avon, and . of these no in- 
considerable portion were wrestling with deck-chairs. 
They would soon be free to put their inquiries to the 
Steward and keep him from having many moments of 
graceful leisure until the second train arrived. After 
that I felt sure that he would be constantly employed. 
In every steamer on which I have yet sailed the Stew- 
ard is looked on by the passengers as is the Secretary 
of a club by the members — as are the correspondence 
columns of the country newspaper by “ Constant 
Subscriber , 9 ’ “Ratepayer,” and “Pro Bono Pub- 
lico ” — as was the safety-valve of an old-fashioned 
engine by the old-fashioned engineer. 

But the Steward is no more sensitive than a police- 
man, a megaphone, or the Official Receiver. You may 
unburden yourself of every grievance before him 
without causing him to think the better of you — or the 
worse. And he looks so very human all the time that 
4 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


people are telling him of their wrongs, though in real- 
ity they might as well go to a grain-elevator. He is 
possibly the most useful of the ship ’s company, and it 
is said that he makes it pay to be civil to all the 
aggrieved, and to change foreign money into English 
at the rate of thirty francs to the sovereign. 

The month was January and the Steamship Avon 
was alongside the dock breastwork at Southampton 
at the point of casting off for the West Indies. The 
day which we had left behind us at Waterloo was such 
a one as the late Monsieur Zola would have described 
with feeling and — if he had gone far enough — accu- 
racy. The morning had been breathing heavily about 
Waterloo Station like a dozing debauchee after a drink- 
sodden night. Its squalor, as it hung reeking over the 
Thames, breathing visibly, malodorously, perspiringly, 
was appalling. The morning had stumbled out of the 
gutter into the stable and then had crawled into Water- 
loo Station to see us off. We turned aside from its 
moist and musty good-by; but still we felt its heavy- 
hanging breath, reeking of a mixture of the stable and 
the kennel. 

And then suddenly through the reek of this Zola- 
esque atmosphere there flashed before my eyes the 
white label of a trunk inscribed ‘ ‘ J amaica. ’ ’ 

In an instant I had passed from Zola to Pierre 
Loti. The mist vanished and the mire was banished. 
There came before me a vision of an ocean island 
bathed in balm — that was the word which the vision 
whispered to me — balm, with its gracious rhymes of 
5 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ palm ” and “ calm/’ clinging about my brain as 
faint echoes of something musical hover about the 
mixed marbles of the Baptistry at Pisa. I had a whiff 
of a coral lagoon — the dawn was pearling over it, with 
the floss of a lazy-breaking wave in the distance. . . . 

And then a truck-load of luggage labeled 4 4 Port 
of Spain ” pulled up beside me — a couple of wooden 
boxes with “ Dominica ” painted on their sides were 
flung contemptuously at my feet by a porter, and an- 
other came up with my own portmanteau and deck- 
chair transfigured by a halo inscribed “ Barbados.” 
I did not need anything more to make me forget the 
dreariness of that dripping morning. The magic of 
the names of these places was enough to banish every- 
thing that lacked the elements of romance from my 
mind. A few months before I was waiting at an in- 
significant junction in the south of Ireland, when a 
long line of carriages ran up at the platform and the 
porters opened the doors shouting : 

“ Change here for Ameriky — change here for 
Ameriky! ” 

I learned that the train was full of emigrants 
bound for Queenstown, where they were to embark for 
New York ; but most of them knew nothing beyond the 
fact that they wanted to go to America ; so the porters 
were tactful enough to refrain from introducing a 
complication of issues. 

I was in hopes that when our special should come 
to the platform the guard would shout : 

“ Embark here for the Spanish Main! 99 

6 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


That was my objective — the Spanish Main. We 
were exchanging the gloom of a London January fog 
for the glory of a tropical archipelago — the sullen, sod- 
den London street for the glow of a garden of sun- 
shine. 

And now I was aboard the Steamship Avon and 
had already put a question or two to the Steward and 
had played the eavesdropper while my fellow-passen- 
gers had elbowed themselves forward to follow up my 
questions. 

And if my companions in the companion proved to 
be part and parcel of those with whom I had voyaged 
East and West and North and South in the old days, 
my shipmates whom I found on the upper deck dif- 
fered in no respect from any whom I remembered on 
decks that have long ago been “ scrapped.” I could 
not help thinking, too, that the steamer on which I had 
now embarked was remarkably like one on which I had 
made a trip to the Cape ; I really felt equal to finding 
my way without a guide to any part of the ship. The 
best ghost-story in existence is that of the lady who 
was accustomed to have a curious dream of wandering 
through a house that was strange to her in her waking 
moments. Some time afterward she went down to stay 
in a part of England where she had never been before, 
and, when there, was taken to pay a visit to a house 
that had the reputation of being haunted. At once 
she recognized the house of her frequent dream, and 
was able to direct her husband to certain rooms and 
describe their contents. A day or two later she met 
7 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

the lady whose house it was, and this one started vio- 
lently on seeing her visitor. The conversation, never 
very fluent, turned upon the household ghost. 

“ Is it a man or a woman ghost? ” inquired the 
lady. 

“ A woman,” replied the other gravely. 

‘ * I did not see her during the three nights I slept 
there,” said the first. 

“ No, no, you would not see her, you — you would 
not.” 

“ Why should not I, as well as any one else, see 
her? ” 

“ You could not, because you are She,” was the 
tremulous answer. 

Now, I felt in regard to this ship as the ghost-lady 
must have felt on entering the house of her dream : I 
had a feeling that I was once again a passenger on the 
old Union-Castle liner, Boer, and I felt quite at home 
on the deck of this Avon, and thought it a happy coin- 
cidence that I should, after the lapse of a good many 
years, find myself a passenger on the sister ship to the 
Boer. I strolled up to the bridge and passing a deck- 
hoiQe, I saw upon the bell the name Boer engraved in 
bold letters. 

What a start I got! How in heaven’s name had 
I been idiot enough to embark on the Cape-liner Boer 
when I had booked my passage to the West Indies by 
the Royal Mail Avon? I made a dive for the hand- 
rail, hoping that I might still be in time to get my 
luggage transshipped, when my eyes lighted on a life- 
8 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

buoy painted with the name Avon. A mulatto quar- 
termaster passed me and on his cap was the name 
Avon in letters of pure gold. At that moment I felt 
more like the ghost-lady than ever. I was having my 
dream of haunting a ship’s deck, and I could hardly 
distinguish it from an incipient nightmare. 

Would you mind letting me know what is the 
name of this steamer? ” I asked of a gentleman who 
had just come upon the bridge. 

He looked at me as if — well, as I expected he would 
look. 

“ No, I haven’t lunched yet,” I said in reply to the 
words that he caught in his teeth as they were coming 
naturally from him. “ No, but having seen the name 
Boer on a bell, and recognizing some things aboard the 
vessel which were also aboard the Boer — but you see 
Avon on the life-buoy and ” 

The gentleman laughed. 

“ You are not to blame; your eyes did not deceive 
you,” said he. “ The fact is that this steamer was the 
old Boer, and when she got too much out of date for 
the Union-Castle the Royal Mail bought her and called 
her the Avon. What is obsolete on the Union-C&£tle 
is a striking innovation on the Royal Mail.” 

“ Oh. But the Boer ” 

“ Yes, she’s a bit venerable. But so is the Royal 
Mail Steam Packet Company, and the officers are en- 
titled by their charter to wear side-arms. When a 
steamer has grown old in crime under another house- 
flag, she continues her career under an alias in the 
9 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


service of the Royal Mail. Good old Boer, she’s as 
criminal as ever ; but she may roll across the Atlantic 
once or twice still before being made amenable to jus- 
tice. She ’ll scrap well. ’ ’ 

‘ * She was a bit of a roller in the old days, ’ ’ said I. 

4 ‘ She may have got steadier in her old age, ’ ’ said 
he. 

I felt doubtful on this point. I went below won- 
dering if it was because the Royal Mail is the oldest 
Steam Packet Company in the world, that it is consid- 
ered de rigueur to have a fleet of the oldest steamers 
afloat. Personally my heart leaps up when I behold a 
gallant ship that has survived the storms of a hundred 
years and the policy of scuttle which unscrupulous 
owners maintained in the ante-Plimsollian days; but 
like Bob Acres ’s ancestors, they are the last sort that I 
should wish to have a visiting acquaintance with. I 
prefer sailing in something less venerable but of more 
velocity. These ten-knot greyhounds do not appeal to 
me. They are lacking in spirit. They are too full of 
groanings and too greatly afflicted by the ague-shakes 
to be pleasant on a voyage of any duration. An old 
sterner painted and varnished and made to look 
jauntily modern is as pitiable a companion as an old 
beau who fondly fancies that the five hairs which he 
pastes carefully across his poll conceal his baldness, 
and that a wispy mustache with the ends waxed brings 
back the freshness of youth. 

But the Boer, alias Avon, may still, I think, not 
deserve to be as black as she is painted. Beneath that 
10 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


too fresh exterior there may be a comfortable cabin or 
two, just as we used to be told in the ancient Adelphi 
dramas that beneath the moleskin waistcoat of the 
honest Yorkshireman a true heart may beat ; only the 
honest Yorkshireman ’s waistcoat was not just as fresh 
as paint. 

“ Are you a passenger, sir? ” I was asked by a 
middle-aged gentleman in the smoking-room, whither I 
retired out of a slant of sudden rain. 

I admitted that I had a tourist’s ticket, and he 
gave me to understand that he approved of the step 
which I proposed taking. 

“ You are right — quite right,” he said with a wave 
of the hand. “ I’ve just been telling the gentlemen 
here ” — he gave a wave in the direction of half a 
dozen loiterers— “ of the advantages of travel. I re- 
peat that it expands the mind — there’s nothing ex- 
pands the mind like travel. You’ll always know a 
man that has traveled. There ’s something in the way 
he talks — a kind of confidence ” 

“ You are coming the round of the islands? ” I 
asked. 

“ No, not this time, sir. I’m a commercial, and 
I find it difficult to get away for more than a fortnight 
now and then, but I always spend that fortnight 
knocking about — I ’ve been as far north as Edinburgh 
in my time; that shows you that I’ve always been a 
believer in traveling. I tell you that it — it expands 
the mind. Look at me, for example ; I ’m not going to 
the West Indies, but — just think of it — yesterday I 
11 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

was at Portsmouth, here I am to-day at Southampton, 

and heaven only knows where I may be to-morrow 

maybe, Bournemouth ! ’ ’ 

He made this revelation to us with bated breath, 
and then looked round from man to man to see what 
effect it had upon us. 

When we were all silent, he seemed thoroughly sat- 
isfied. There was a gleam of triumph in his eyes — he 
had silenced us. We had no word to say to the detri- 
ment of travel as an expander of the mind. 


12 


CHAPTER II 


It would, of course, be ridiculous to expect that 
the romance of the voyage will develop itself before 
the eyes of the recorder until the steamer is out of 
soundings ; but it is as well to be on the qui vive. Al- 
ready I have seen a young woman whose eyes suggest 
great possibilities. They seem to me to be most com- 
panionable eyes — not too deep to make a man feel 
hopeless when they rest upon him — not so full of spir- 
ituality as to be devoid of spirit — not so intellectual 
as to be devoid of intelligence. She is with an elderly 
man: he might either be her father or her husband, 
I thought when we sat down to lunch. I rather hoped 
that he might be the latter. The recorder of romance 
grows very hopeful when a young woman with com- 
panionable eyes and a husband whom strangers some- 
times take for her father ‘ ‘ swims into his ken. ’ ’ But 
before lunch is over I perceive from the attention 
which he bestows upon her that he is her father. He 
does not treat her with that indifference which is the 
result of possession with propinquity. But I am not 
without hopes of her. She may give that father of 
hers trouble yet. A father is a stone that is thrown 
into the stream of true love to prevent its running too 
smooth. 


2 


13 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

But she may not after all set the pattern for the 
romance of the voyage. The Fates do not always work 
with silken threads. When, having suspended the 
operation of spinning out the various fibers that come 
under their hands, they set about weaving one of their 
crazy-quilts, they work after the manner of lunatics 
(we think) — snatching up skeins at haphazard — one 
of silk at the right hand, one of cotton at the left, 
twisting them together for the warp in their loom, and 
then making a mad woof of worsted it may be — per- 
haps jute — one fiber will serve as well as another. 
The instant that the shuttles are filled they set their 
loom in motion, mixing up human lives incongruously, 
irregularly, but irresistibly, without referring to any 
design — without caring in the least what happens so 
long as something comes out at the other end of the 
loom. Pattern is no object, harmony of coloring is 
not studied by the weavers ; equality of surface, deli- 
cacy of finish, perfection of detail are totally neglected. 
The threads are woven together by the shooting shut- 
tle and they may writhe and strain and become atten- 
uated in the process — it matters nothing to the weav- 
ers. They have the shears handy and the knots are 
simply dealt with — the Fates do not bother unloosing 
knots, but they do a deal of snipping in the course 
of their weaving. The result of their unprincipled 
labor is ludicrous, but it serves. It must serve. It is 
a jail quilt : a thing to grumble at — to swear at, but 
to be endured all the same. Sometimes it becomes 
endurable — sometimes it seems even luxurious. Heav- 
14 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

ens ! When one examines the materials of which it is 
made and knows of the rudimentary character of the 
machine which turned it out, one ceases to wonder that 
the thing is so foolish : the wonder is that it serves its 
purpose so well. 

Its purpose? 

But that is where the jest comes in ; for the Fates 
weave for the fun of the thing : they do not work with 
a purpose. That is how it comes that a recorder is 
never without hope. He knows that the only essen- 
tial to the weaving of that craziest of crazy-quilts, 
romance, is incongruity. He knows that no woman 
that ever lived is commonplace, so he hopes and is not 
afraid. 

After all it may be that that girl with the promi- 
nent teeth and the good-humored smile will prove the 
spoiled darling of the Fates and cause the ship to be 
set on fire by some inflammatory youth who aims at 
rescuing her and her alone out of all the ship’s com- 
pany. Who can tell ? 

At any rate here is plenty of material for the weav- 
ing. The saloon is quite crowded at lunch — hearing 
the meal called lunch instead of tiffin, makes me feel 
that we are on the way to the West, not the East — and 
there is incongruity enough to satisfy the most jocu- 
lar Fate. People who are saying good-by to friends 
are partaking of lunch with them, so that it is impos- 
sible to say who are the passengers and who will go 
ashore when the steamer casts off her moorings. But 
I rather hope that if it is ordained that either the 
15 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


young woman with the companionable eyes or her 
father must go ashore, it will be the father who will 
do so. 

But I think that when the time comes to choose a 
place at a table I will choose one at another table than 
that at which this particular young woman sits. 

And I certainly will not choose one at the table 
which may be selected by a man whom I have just 
encountered and who assures me that he remembers 
me years ago. I came upon him in the smoking-room 
and found that he had theories on the making of cock- 
tails. He offered to place his experience at my dis- 
posal, and altogether showed himself to be so friendly 
that I knew he could not have been an old friend. An 
old friend never tries to show you that he is an old 
friend. He simply is one. 

And then the bell rang for the ship to be cleared, 
and the usual business of saying good-by began. There 
was nothing affecting about any of the partings at the 
steamer's rail. They all suggested a certain polite re- 
straint. No one associates danger with the deep now- 
adays. I believe that it has been proved by statistics 
that if one devotes one's life to making the passage 
of the Atlantic one will live to the age of one hundred 
and eighty-two; only one must never go ashore. The 
moment that one goes ashore the risk begins. 

There was really no farewell spoken, only au revoir. 
A young woman close to where I was standing was 
assuring her sister that she would be back in time for 
Mrs. Griff en’s dance in March, and a youth who 
16 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

seemed to be on terms of expectant friendship with 
the sister, asked her to keep the first polka for him, 
the second extra and the last valse but three. 

The hawsers were cast off without emotion. I could 
see in many faces on shore a certain expression of re- 
relief when the engine-room bell began to tinkle its 

Stand by. ’ ’ Several times I had noticed during the 
previous two hours a general expression on every coun- 
tenance that said as plainly as possible : 

‘ ‘ Is the thing never going to clear off ? ’ 1 
As a matter of fact I heard this question asked 
both afloat and ashore, and when at last the clearing 
off took place there was plenty of smiling. 

Very different indeed was this scene of chastened 
farewell from one which I had witnessed in the south 
of Ireland the month before. I had heard the sound 
of that extravagance of alternate lamentation and 
jubilation, which seems to be the essence of the Irish 
temperament, in the neighborhood of one of those 
hideous zinc-roofed, comfortable houses which have 
during the past ten years taken the place of the pic- 
turesque squalid cabins. 

“ What’s going on there— a wake? ” I asked the 
groom. 

’Tis a live wake, sir, that they’re having,” he re- 
plied with an unstifled sigh, that told me that ’twas 
himself was longing to join the jubilant mourners. 

“ A live wake ? ” said I ; for I had never heard the 
expression before. 

“ A live wake, sir. ’Tis Timmy O’Ryan that’s im- 

17 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


migrating from here to Ameriky, and as his widdy 
mother is nigh upon eighty, ’tis the same as burying 
him that it is to her and the rest of the family, so 
they’re having times of it till the morning.” 

“ Oh, that’s a live wake? ” said I, and as the dog- 
cart went round the curve of the black road I could 
hear the fitful wail of this melancholy festivity when 
any one opened the door of the cottage for a second or 
two. The sound burst forth as do the flames of a loco- 
motive furnace when the stoker opens the door to 
stoke. 

I chanced to be at the railway station the next day 
when the O’Ryan was sloping slowly to the West — 
a stripling of forty-five or thereabouts. There were a 
score or so of his friends of both sexes seeing him off, 
and it seemed to be etiquette to pay no attention what- 
ever to the hero of the occasion so long as the train was 
not in sight. The people chatted and joked and were 
silent among themselves all this time, and Mr. O’Ryan 
was treated with absolute indifference. Plis isolation 
was chilling. But the moment that the train appeared 
— the visible shape of an awful, irresistible Destiny — 
there was a murmur, and the murmur broadened into 
a wail. The women threw themselves upon the man ’s 
shoulders with floods of tears and all the variations of 
grief articulate, and the men crushed in upon him with 
outstretched hands and continuous cries of “ Good 
luck to ye, Timmy! ” “ God save ye, Timmy! ” 

* ‘ Safe over, Tim, my man ! ’ ’ 


18 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


They were all clinging to him, and he had to fight 
his way through them to get at his box, when the 
guard of the train— Chorus of the wrought-iron 
Monster of Destiny — called out his callous formula : 

* ‘ Queenstown train — all take your seats. ’ ’ 

It needed the efforts of all the staff of the station 
to disentangle Timothy O’Ryan from his friends and 
bundle him with his bundles into a carriage. And 
when their official duties were discharged the station 
staff became ordinary human beings again, and all had 
to say farewell to the man on their own account. 

The crescendo of the babel of good-bys was 
reached when the guard, with the air of a noble Roman 
father giving the order for the decapitation of his best 
friend for the good of Rome, blew his whistle. A hun- 
dred hands were stretched forth to the window which 
Mr. O’Ryan fully occupied; hats were waved — hand- 
kerchiefs — mufflers — blackthorns — pipes and one 
empty bottle. The crowd ran alongside the train as 
it steamed out of the station — yelling and weeping and 
praying and hurling good wishes after the man. 

The three porters became for the moment like the 
brave Horatius and his companions — more Roman 
fathers — holding back the surging crowd, and then 
they jumped upon the foot-board and shook the man by 
the hand as he leaned with half his body out of the 
window. 

That was something like a parting. But alongside 
the dock at Southampton there was scarcely a hand- 
19 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


kerchief seen — I believe that I did see one ; it was being 
waved, not used to conceal emotion. 

Every one seemed glad that even this unemotional 
formality was over. No one glanced back at the dock- 
side. We were free to look after our own comforts 
and to admire the winter view of the Solent. 

Now that a separation had been made between the 
passengers and their friends who had come to see them 
off, I could give undivided attention to my materiel. 
But of all the humiliating habits to acquire, that of 
speculating upon one’s fellow creatures is the most 
egregious if it is also the most fascinating. My experi- 
ence has long ago taught me that it is the utterest folly 
making out among the people whom one meets, a cast 
for any particular romance that one may invent. And 
yet I can never resist the temptation of doing so, and 
on the most conventional lines. The humiliations to 
which I am subjected by remorseless actuality are not 
in the least discouraging. When I have made up my 
mind that that exquisite girl who sits shyly in a corner 
of a railway carriage, has acquired her expression of 
habitual sadness owing to the cruelty of her father who 
wants her to marry a rich outside broker in order to 
save his own tottering fortunes — she, I feel, is too 
spirituelle even for a member of the Stock Exchange — 
I am quite ready to make her cause my own, and do my 
best to bring that hardened old man who is ready to 
sell his own flesh and blood, to see the evil of his ways. 
But when the spirituelle girl leans pathetically out of 
the window at the next station and calls to the newsboy 
20 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

to bring her ‘ ‘ all the winners, ’ ’ and when I hear her 
explain to the cruel elderly man beside her, how the 
scratching of Porcupine at the eleventh hour was a 
stable dodge in order to put an extra six pounds upon 
Orfull for the Oaks, I am led to feel that this particu- 
lar young lady is after all not too bright or good to be 
the wife of a company promoter. 

When I discover that the dashing young cavalry 
officer of my momentary romance, who captures the 
heart of my heroine the moment they meet, is the 
chucker-out at a restaurant in Piccadilly Circus, and 
that the limping, middle-aged, pasty-faced city clerk 
was a short time ago the corespondent in what the 
newspapers term ‘ 4 A Society Scandal, ’ ’ I begin to feel 
that I know nothing of the elementary principles of 
natural selection. 

And yet, before the steamer is out of the Solent, 
my idiotic imagination, working in as conventional 
lines as were ever adopted by the novelist of the past, 
has got together a complete cast for certain dramas to 
be enacted before we reach Barbados. 

How can I help it? 

There is that young soldier — he got his brevet ma- 
jority on the field when he swooped down with a hun- 
dred mounted men upon three times their number of 
Boers, taking them by surprise and making prisoners 
of all who survived the onslaught — he is trying the 
long- voyage remedy for the wound that incapacitated 
him. 

What a figure for the romance of an hour is there ? 

21 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSPIINE 

I already see that tall girl who has brought her maid 
with her, looking at him with interested eyes. Her 
name, I find, is Miss Croysdale — unless she bought her 
deck-chair second-hand and did not take the trouble to 
paint over the name of the previous owner. How 
could she help being attracted by this brave young fel- 
low, who has the additional qualification of not being 
able to walk without the aid of a stick. 

Now will she be true to the man whom she loves, or 
will she yield her heart to the keeping of Major Wing- 
field with the stick ? That is the question which per- 
turbs me. 

And what about that good-humored-looking girl 
who is dressed with such comfortable becomingness, 
and curls herself up in her sensible deck-chair — she 
takes a large size in deck-chairs, I notice 1 She is not 
ashamed of her attempt to go to sleep with her furs well 
tucked in about her throat, and she has no reason to be 
ashamed of the shape of her foot, which is uncon- 
sciously displayed (with a generous amount of ankle) 
on the support of her chair. She is a most attractive 
young woman — not so young as to call for remark, but 
not too old to be sensible. Her father’s name is Crof- 
ton, so I suppose that she is Miss Crofton. She is one 
of those women who, you know the first moment you 
see them, are not married. And then one is face to 
face with the problem : 

“ Why is she not married? ” 

To work out that question from every standpoint 
would occupy any one possessing an average share of 
22 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

imagination more than the time it takes to make the 
round of the islands. 

I feel sure that she has had her option more than 
once. When a man sees that a young woman knows 
how to make herself comfortable, he is pretty sure that 
she will make him comfortable, and he is not wrong. 
But why did she refuse her offers ? Was it because 
she was so comfortable single ? Alas ! the aspiration of 
every woman is to make others comfortable — that is 
her business in life. 

This Miss Crofton interests me greatly ; and this is 
perhaps why I do not see quite clearly the role which 
she is to play in the romance — any of the romances of 
the voyage. 

But how can that tall, slender girl with the innocent 
eyes and the long, dark lashes be kept out of all the 
romance that is going ? Where have I seen her before ? 
It takes me some time to recall her ; but at last I have 
found her. She is the girl of a poem which I read in 
my boyhood and realized in my manhood. She is the 
4 ‘ maiden living all above ’ ’ of the stanza : 

“ Had I the grace to win the grace 
Of maiden living all above, 

My sonl would trample down the base, 

That she might have a man to love.” 

There is the girl— sweet and gentle and interested in 
everything. Of all deeds that are done in this world 
of travail and passion, she knows nothing — nothing of 
the strange joy of hate — nothing of the stranger wo 
23 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

of love. For girls like this one men die. With a girl 
like this one a man lives. 

Her name is Ethel Hope— so much I found out 
early. She is going out in charge of an elderly lady 
who has an inoffensive husband. But I have noticed 
that a third of the elderly series — a gentleman named 
Sowerby (with a visage to correspond) looks upon him- 
self as a sort of understudy in the duties which they 
have undertaken. When Mrs. Krux— the chaperon in 
chief — leaves her chair for a moment, Mr. Sowerby 
sits in it. The same thing happens when Mr. Krux 
makes a move; so that Miss Hope is evermore sand- 
wiched by her protectors. There never was so embar- 
rassing a policy of protection. I fancy that before 
long the girl may become an ardent Free Trader. 

I see two or three glances being cast at her and her 
entourage , and I know that inquiries have already been 
made as to her destination — is she making the round of 
the islands or merely going out to some relations in 
Jamaica or Trinidad? 

Romance is in the air. 

But there are plenty of “ supers ” in whatever 
drama or comedy or farce may be played on the boards 
of the Avon, with the Atlantic Ocean as a stage-cloth 
and the blue sky of the tropics as the act-drop. I came 
upon some of the “ citizens,” etc., of the playbill, 
when I backed into the cushioned deck-house termed in 
the plans of the steamer the i( drawing-room,” to 
avoid a shower of rain. They looked matronly enough 
but not too matronly, and I felt sure that they had 
24 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

been exchanging views regarding each other’s furs, for 
they were now exchanging confidences on the subject 
of husbands. The sequence will be apparent to any 
one who has given some attention to the question of 
the civilizing of woman. 

Woman talks nowadays precisely as she did at a 
period which ignorant savants term prehistoric — as if 
men and women did not begin to make history the 
moment that they came down from their trees and 
began to live in caves, just as they do to-day. In 
those old times the most important topic outside the 
family cave was (as it is now) the hunting. This topic 
divided itself naturally into two departments — (1) 
The flesh for eating, (2) The fur for wearing. When 
these points were threshed out the women talked about 
the hunters. 

I was sure that Mrs. Heber and Mrs. Pritchard— 
the two matrons who were in the drawing-room — had 
talked first of their cooks, then of their furs, for they 
had now reached the third stage. 

There is scarcely any conversation worth listening 
to except that which is conducted in a whisper ; just as 
there are scarcely any stories worth the telling except 
those which should never be told. But it was plain 
that the matrons of the Avon meant their exchange of 
confidences to be anything but confidential. Their 
wisdom was not meant to pass from one mouth to one 
ear only. Their wisdom was experience. They had 
suffered that all who might hear their words should be 
wise. 


25 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ Oh, no matter what dreams we may once have 
had, marriage opens our eyes,” came the prima vox, 
with the obligato of a sigh of complete satisfaction. 

4 4 Ah, yes, yes — the feet of clay — the feet of clay ! ’ ’ 
sighed vox secunda. 

44 That is it — the feet of clay. We poor girls place 
them on a pedestal, but it does not last — we soon find 
out that our idols have feet of clay,” said prima vox; 
and then Mrs. Heber pretended that she had just be- 
come aware of my proximity. She smiled — I had met 
her several times on dry land and we had already got 
the rough edge off our greetings aboard the Avon — 
and nodded at me, saying : 

“We have been talking about you.” 

4 4 I feel flattered. ’ ’ 

44 Oh, you needn’t. Not about you personally — 
only you among the rest. ’ ’ 

4 4 I deny the rest. To every man the world of men 
is made up of himself and the rest. He insists on the 
partition. ’ ’ 

44 Well, you may keep yourself to yourself; but 
still you men are all made on the same model.” 

44 To deny it would be to pronounce oneself an 
atheist, Mrs. Heber. What does your Bible say about 
man and his model — 4 In the image of God ’ — ? ” 

44 You must not mock. Think that there is only 
a thin plank — I suppose a steamer is made of iron — 
never mind. You should not mock, setting out to face 
the dangers of the deep. Wait until we get out so far 
that there is no danger of a collision. Mrs. Pritchard 
26 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

and I have been comparing experiences and we agree 
that sooner or later the feet of clay of the men we make 
our idols will appear. You know very well that you 
have all got feet of clay.” 

Not my feet only but also my hands and my head 
—there’s more scripture for you, Mrs. Heber: but I 
am not mocking. ’ ’ 

“ You have the good grace to admit the feet of 
clay. ’ ’ 

I can do so with a clear conscience. Wb live on 
a gravel soil in Kensington.” 

“ Do you mean to be enigmatical? Gravel soil? 
Oh, you give yourselves airs in Kensington— Kensing- 
ton proper, not the ridiculous West or — but I’ve known 
Kensington husbands who were no better than ” 

“ Kensington proper— you have said it, my dear 
Mrs. Heber. In Kensington and every other place that 
is proper ” 

What do you call a proper place — a place where 
people of property live or a place where the proprieties 
are observed? ” 

All questions of domicile are decided on the basis 
of slumber. A proper place is a place where propriety 
— sleeps. But that is not the point.” 

“ What point? ” 

“ The feet of clay. Were you not talking about 
feet of clay? ” 

“ Some time ago. You dragged in poor Kensing- 
ton and its gravel soil, as if you were a house-agent.” 

“ I only meant to say that we are always on the 

27 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

lookout for the feet of clay, so all our houses have 
scrapers and two sorts of mats.” 

“ More word jugglery! You have been studying 
Lord Rosebery. What do you mean to say exactly ? ’ ’ 
Only that you and every other well-shaped wom- 
an would be frightfully disappointed if you were to 
marry a man without the feet of clay — you know that 
and I know it too. Gold is all very well, but it should 
be on the pedestal of your idol, not the composition 
of your idol. Flesh and blood are clay, and you marry 
flesh and blood, don’t you? ” 

“ Talking of flesh— I do hope that I’ll get enough 
exercise aboard this ship,” said the lady. “ I can’t 
afford to put on another pound. ’ ’ 

And then we went on to talk of obesity, of Christian 
Science, of electric baths, and the Book of Job. 


28 


CHAPTER 111 


I felt that I should be quite comfortable sitting 
at the same table as Mrs. Heber and her husband; 
Mrs. Heber has the reputation for increasing the gen- 
eral comfort of a party even though her husband may 
be absent. I am not sure that she increases to any 
appreciable extent the comfort of her husband, though 
she does sometimes make long visits to her friends, 
leaving him at home. Major Ileber had the reputation 
of being the worst billiard-player at Aldershot, but he 
retains a considerable portion of his old nerve at 
steeplechasing, for he is ready to declare that Sir 
Redvers Buller was a very ill-used man. 

That was the topic on which he opened when we 
took our places at the purser’s table. (The purser’s 
table is always a safe one.) He defended the General 
on general principles — he had known Buller and 
served under him, and a better chap didn’t exist. All 
such strong military arguments as that he brought 
forward while his wife talked to the purser on the red 
pepper of Nepaul ; and he had it all his own way while 
the soup was on; but when there was a pause in the 
business of the table a man who had been through a 
campaign or two said: 

“ Ho you think that Buller was altogether wise in 

3 29 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


the way he set about defending himself against the 
attacks that were made upon him? ” 

“ Oh, I think that he made rather a fool of him- 
self there, ” said Major Heber. “ But take my word 
for it, there ’s no braver man in the British army. I ’ve 
served under him, sir. ’ ’ 

“ I wonder what his object was in insisting on the 
Government publishing that telegram or heliogram of 
his to White, urging him to scuttle out of Ladysmith, 
destroying all the stores that he could in the time,” 
said the other man in the accents of an earnest seeker 
after truth — as much truth as can be got between the 
removal of the soup and the serving of the fish. 

“ That was a bit of a mistake,” said the Major; 
‘ ‘ but all the same, he ’s the bravest soldier that 
ever *” 

“ That ever advised — I should say commanded an 
officer who looked to him for orders, to scuttle,” said 
the other quietly. ‘ ‘ No one could understand the mis- 
takes made by Buller until he insisted on the publica- 
tion of all the papers. Then every one saw how gross 
was his incompetence. What are we to think of the 
leadership of a man who has not even tact enough to 
know how to defend himself from an attack ? A gen- 
eral who has not tact enough to defend himself is not 
the man to have tactics enough to defend the force 
with which he is entrusted.” 

‘ * Well, yes, he did make a bit of an ass of himself, ’ 9 
said the Major. “ But so far as bravery is concerned, 
I tell you that Buller never knew what fear was. ’ ’ 

30 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


‘ ‘ My dear sir, any one who would say that Buller 
ever showed a lack of bravery would be a fool ; and any 
one who would say that his message to White was not 
a cowardly one would he an imbecile, ’ ’ said the other. 

* ‘ I don ’t defend him, sir ; but all the same he was 
very badly treated. I served under him, and I’ll 
stand up for him,” said the Major, stoutly. 

“ Your determination does you great honor,” said 
the other. “You are no fair-weather friend, Major. 
I wish there were more like you.” 

“ Hang it, when a man’s down is not the time for 
his old pals to round on him,” cried the Major, and 
then he drank a whisky and soda and made a spirited 
attack on the cod and . . . sauce. (I dare not say 
what the sauce was. I only know that it was not what 
the carte affirmed it to be.) 

Mrs. Heber told me in accents of confidence that 
she thought the man who had abused Buller was quite 
horrid. 

“ That’s the penalty that people have to pay for 
being in the right, ’ ’ said I. 

“ Oh, it’s not that,” said she; “ it is the way he 
strokes his mustache. I never knew any good come 
to a man who stroked his mustache with his little finger 
standing out like that from his hand.” 

‘ ‘ Neither did I, ’ ’ said I, and I really never did. I 
had never associated coming to good with the sticking 
out of a little finger from the hand that is smoothing 
down a mustache. 

‘ ‘ But we must be grateful to him for having closed 

31 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


that eternal Buller question, ’ ’ said Mrs. Heber. ‘ * My 
husband has talked about nothing else for the past 
month. He has bored me to extinction, and I was 
afraid that the people aboard this steamer would make 
a Jonah of him and throw him overboard for the com- 
mon good.” 

“ The jettison of Jonah represented an extreme 
step,” said I. “ Personally I have always regarded 
it as reprehensible. Still there are occasions ” 

“ There are. This fish is tough enough to have 
been the one that swallowed up the prophet, ’ ’ said she. 
“ Talking of swallowing up the profit, I suppose if 
the company were to give us a better table they would 
not be able to make anything off us: but really this 
fish ” 

Then, for fear she should be thought a grumbler 
she looked across the table at Professor Dugdale in 
quite a pleasant and impressive way, saying: 

“We have been discussing an old story, Professor 
Dugdale — the throwing of Jonah overboard. We were 
not sure that it was quite unjustifiable. What do you 
think about the transaction ? ’ ’ 

“ It is the finest fable in existence, and it remains 
so in spite of the gross misrepresentations to which it 
has been subjected,” replied Professor Dugdale. 

“ I hope we didn’t draw the wrong moral : we only 
came to the conclusion that Jonah’s misfortunes were 
meant as a warning to bores, ’ ’ said Mrs. Heber. 

“ If that’s true, it has failed signally,” said the 
purser, but without looking at anybody in particular. 

32 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


It would not have been polite to look at anybody in 
particular. 44 It is strange,” be added, 44 how people 
begin to talk about Jonah the moment they get aboard 
this ship. I have noticed for the past five voyages that 
he is the topic of this table at the first meal. ’ ’ 

44 And yet you have never had to throw any one 
overboard? ” 

4 4 Not even a cook, ’ ’ replied the purser. 

44 That was how you misinterpreted the story,” 
said the lady. 

44 Jonah’s persistent ill-luck has followed him to 
the present day,” said some one else. 

4 4 Ill-luck ? Now, I think that J onah was the lucki- 
est man that ever lived,” cried Mrs. Heber. 

44 Next to Thomas Smith,” said some one else. 
44 You remember the case of Thomas Smith, who had 
murdered his sister and strangled his aunt for an elec- 
troplated teapot ; but the jury brought in a verdict of 
manslaughter. 4 Thomas Smith, ’ said the judge, 4 you 
are the luckiest man I ever met in all my life. Take 
penal servitude for life! ’ ” 

It was Major Heber who at this point told the story 
of the Boston harpooner whose boat was smashed by 
a bull- whale, and its occupants flung high into the air. 
“ I went head foremost into the jaws of the thing,” 
said the original narrator, 4 4 and down his throat. It 
was five or six minutes before I managed to pull myself 
together, and then I found myself in what seemed to 
be a fine roomy cavern. It was very dark, so I pulled 
out a match, struck it on the leg of my pants and looked 
33 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

around. I was struck all of a heap when I saw lying 
on a shelf a jack-knife, and just above it there was 
carved the name 1 Jonah,’ and the date b.c. 782! I 
had often heard of whales living to a big age, but there 
was a proof that no one would reasonably look for. 
And if any of you doubt the truth of what I have told 
you, here’s the jack-knife. I brought it with me when 
I left in case I should confront a skeptic. ’ ’ 

“ There’s an older fish-story extant than that of 
Jonah, ’ ’ said the man who had given his views so freely 
on the subject of Sir Redvers Buller. “ It is carved 
on one of the stones at Bala Lake, in Egypt, and it 
was venerable before Jonah was born. The carving 
represents two men carrying between them on a pole 
a fish whose tail trails along the ground. Egyptologists 
say that that is a proof that at one time fish six feet 
in length were in Bala Lake. To my mind it is only 
a proof that there were some pretty rigid fish-stories 
even in those days. ’ ’ 

“ The fable of Jonah has been grossly misinter- 
preted,” said Professor Dugdale. “ But then think 
of the others that have been subjected to the same 
treatment of perversion. What is the real moral of the 
story of the Prophet Elisha and the children that 
mocked him? ” he inquired, looking round the table 
as if we had all been students in his class-room. 

“ I suppose it is that every prophet should buy 
somebody’s hair-restorer,” suggested Mrs. Heber. 

‘ ‘ Just think of that wicked, ill-tempered old proph- 
et, because a crowd of children at play point at him 
34 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

and call him a name of inconsiderable opprobrium, he 
turns round and curses them — actually curses them, 
not in the casual way of momentary irritation, but well 
knowing, if he was anything of a prophet at all, what 
the consequences would be, and — I forget at this mo- 
ment how many of them the bears slew . ’ ’ 

“ Forty-two exactly,” said Mrs. Heber. 

4 ‘Thank you. Forty-two! Just think of it — forty- 
two poor children slain — forty-two households made 
desolate in order to restore the amour propre of a 
bald-headed Jew! And the worst of it is that our 
pastors and masters assure us that the lesson taught 
to us by this lurid incident is that we should not mock 
at a shiny-pated Sheeny. Preposterous! Every one 
knows that the moral is that one should not lose one s 
temper over trifles. Then there is the story of that 
noble woman — as true a patriot as Joan of Arc or the 
Maid of Saragossa — Delilah ! ’ ’ 

“ Oh! ’ ’ cried Mrs. Pleber. “ Delilah, the patri- 

otte? ” 

“ Hers was the act of a woman who was ready to 
sacrifice all that a woman holds dear in order to deliver 
her country from the thraldom of that burly butcher 
sensualist, Samson. Is there no poet who will write a 
verse to do tardy honor to so great a heroine ? 

“ I doubt it,” said some one, mournfully. 

“ And what about that shocking episode of the 
Sultan David and the maiden Abisliag, the beautiful 
Shunamite, with whom his youngest son was in love? 
Have we ever heard a sermon preached against that 
35 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

revolting crime ? Then there was the scandalous case 

of the traitress Rahab and ” 

“ Oh, please don’t go on any further; we’ll admit 
everything,” cried Mrs. Heber. “ I had no idea that 
you were such a Bible student, Professor Dugdale. 
But of course I should remember that modern science 
goes hand in hand with the Bible. But I wish that I 
had not stirred up poor Jonah, but had allowed him 
to rest in under the juniper-tree. Are we going to 
have a rough night, Mr. Beddoes? The steamer is 
inclined to be a little jumpy, isn’t it? ” 

The purser assured her that whatever the weather 
might be, no first-class passenger would be jettisoned. 
It was a rule of the Royal Mail in such an extremity 
to begin with the second-class passengers, and, even 
then, valets and ladies’ maids were exempt. 

This twelve-knot greyhound of ours was certainly 
making very poor weather of the channel breeze which 
we were beginning to feel. Some of us thought that 
the smoking-room, where there was no piano, would 
be preferable to the drawing-room, where there was 
one. We crawled up to the deck, and squeezed our- 
selves into the round-house — it was a great satisfaction 
to us, anxious to be assimilated with all the tradition 
of the Spanish Main, to think of the smoking-room of 
the Avon — the panels picked out with bird’s-eye maple, 
e ^ c * as the round-house of the old piratical schooner 
with the raking masts. 

We had an immense yearning after rum — a bever- 
age which I had never tasted except through the un- 
36 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


satisfactory medium of an omelet, and then there 
was only as much of it as justified the chef’s allowing 
the au rhum to appear in the carte : the chef had an in- 
exorable conscience. I felt inclined to call upon Darby 
Magraw the personal attendant of the redoubtable 
Captain Flint, to fetch a whole bottle. But on mature 
reflection I thought it better to start with a liqueur 
glassful. One can not become luridly heroic all at 
once, so I had my liqueur and found it as Pepys did 
Nell Gwyn when he surprised her not fully draped 
in her dressing-room at the theater, “ Very pretty 
prettier even than I thought.” 

The smoking-room was crowded ; but I managed 
to get a seat by the side of a man who was not quite 
a stranger — a Scot, and, like most of his race, full of 
humor. At one of the tables in the next alcove— the 
round-house is built in alcoves surrounding the glass 
dome of the drawing-room — Major Heber sat with a 
couple of younger men, and we could hear him say in 
the firmest of accents : 

‘ ‘ I give you my word, he was a very badly treated 
man. Of course there is no denying that he made an 
ass of himself, but a braver soldier when he had a job 
of work to get through never was in the field. Yes, 
he has been shamefully treated.” 

I gave a laugh. My Scot winked sagaciously. 

“ There’s a few of us will know something of Buller 
before we get to Barbados,” he whispered. 

“ I couldn’t know less about the way the campaign 
was carried on even if I were the Secretary for War 
37 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


himself/ ’ said I, “ but if we hear much more about 
Buller and his bungling there will be the cry of ‘ man 
overboard! ’ some of these nights, and Major Heber 
will be missing. ’ ’ 

There was a good deal of grumbling going on 
around us at the rigid way in which the Royal Mail 
Steam Packet Company adhered to the traditions of 
their early years. My Scot was most sarcastic in his 
references to their cash system for drinks. I must con- 
fess that I was a little surprised when, on ordering a 
bottle of something at dinner, the steward-waiter asked 
me to give him the money for it. It seemed as if they 
had never heard of the chit system which prevails 
aboard every steamer on which I have sailed. 

“ It’s a survival of the days when all the noted 
buccaneers used to travel by this route, ’ ’ said the Scot. 
“ I believe that they were in the habit of drinking 
half a dozen bottles of rum a day all through the voy- 
age, and when payment was demanded they drew a 
cutlass or two from their belts — the leather ones with 
the big brass buckles. ’ ’ 

“ Yes, the ‘ once aboard the lugger ’ pattern.” 

“ Aye, and there was a vacancy for a steward or 
two before they paid their score. Aye, man, they do 
well to be careful still.” 

‘ ‘ The buccaneers are all dead and gone, but there 
are company promoters still, you think? ” said I. 

“ Aye, and missionaries.” 

“ "Well, no doubt they do well to be careful; but 
their system is very inconvenient.” 

38 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ Ay, no doot it’s inconvenient, but, man, you must 
mind that the officers of the Company are entitled by 
their charter to wear side-arms,” said the Scot. 

“ Hang it all! I’ve served under him and that’s 
why I stand up for him. He’s all right, only that he 
makes an ass of himself,” came the voice of Major 
Heber. He was fairly warming to his topic. I felt 
sure that some morning there would be a vacancy at 
our table in the saloon. 

Conversation within our special alcove soon became 
general, as it usually does in the smoking-room of a 
steamer. But there was none of that rapid, vapid talk 
which is characteristic of the North Atlantic passage, 
where people feel that they have only five days to get 
rid of the conversational accumulations of years. 

Our chat was not on the “ Lemeo ” principle— a 
whole ox boiled down into a cup ; it was rather of the 
old-fashioned, beef-tea type— simmering, and never 
reaching boiling-point. We all seemed to feel that we 
were to have a couple of months of each other s com- 
pany, so we spread the jam on thin, as it were. 

I found that the man who sat next to me bore the 
same name-a rather uncommon one^s a gentleman 
whom I had met years ago in India-a gentleman who 
was said to be gifted with an imagination that was 
practically without a horizon. I ventured to inquire 
if the two were relations. 

- He was my father/’ replied the man beside me, 
and then he went on to talk about him, telling me that 
he had died shortly after taking up a good appomt- 
39 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


ment at Singapore. I expressed my regret, and then 
it turned out that the Scot had also been acquainted 
with the lamented gentleman in the East. 

“ Oh, yes, ” he said, “ I came across him once or 
twice — he was a bit of a li — ahem, aye, he gave us a 
yarn or two that took away our breath — some of them 
even took away my breath, and I had at one time a 
pretty fair county-court practise/ ’ 

He had some strange experiences, poor old dad ! ’ ’ 
said the son, sententiously. 

“ Aye, that was the reputation under which he 
suffered,” said the Scot with a dry twinkle. 

I thought that I saw a smile lurking about the cor- 
ners of the son’s mouth, and that encouraged me to 
repeat one of his father’s most remarkable stories. 

“ He had some curious experiences,” I said. “ I 
wonder if you ever heard the one he told about the 
cobra. I was particularly struck by it. He told me 
one day that he had said to his son, ‘ If ever you want 
to catch a cobra, don’t make a fool of yourself by 
pouncing on it all at once. If you do the chances are 
that it will bite you badly. What you do is to pass 
your hand gently up its body from the tail and then 
take a firm grip of its neck, and it can’t harm you. 
Strange to say,’ your father went on, 4 on the very 
next day after my telling him that old jest, my boy 
entered the compound in the cool of the evening, trail- 
ing m a six-foot cobra wriggling and writhing like a 
whip-pennant in a gale. ‘ ‘ Is that the way you meant 
me to catch him ? ” he cried, holding up his right arm 
40 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

and showing me that he had caught the cobra by the 
neck. * ” 

“ Ah, yes,” said the son, “ I should know that 
story. It was I who caught that cobra.’ ' 

There was a long silence after this. But I wilf say 
that no one was indecent enough to look at his neigh- 
bor or to wink. 

It was the Scot who, at last, removed his pipe from 
his lips and knocked the ashes out of the bowl upon the 
little tray. 

“ Aye,” he said. “ Yon’s the voice of the Pro- 
fessor beyond there. He’s discoursing on heredity. 
I’m beginning to think that there’s something in it 
after all.” 


41 


CHAPTER IV 


There was a good deal of hard smoking in that 
round-house during the next quarter of an hour. Only 
a casual remark was made now and again on the unsea- 
worthiness of the steamer. The man whose father we 
had admired was the first to make the attempt to raise 
the tone of the conversation from the desultory depth 
to which it had fallen. 

“ I wonder if my father ever told you the story of 
Aylmer and his snakes? ” he said, inclining his head 
in my direction. 

Now, what I had been wondering was that the tale 
of the cobra had not called forth any reminiscences 
from some of our group. It was the first time that I 
had ever known of a solitary snake crawling in front 
of a company more or less unscrupulous. 

“ No >” said I, reflectively, “ I don’t think that he 
ever mentioned Aylmer. Is it another story that you 
can vouch for? ” 

I don’t wonder at some of the queer things one 
hears about snakes,” said the man— his name was 
Burling. “ The fact is, that they are uncanny things, 
and had better not be touched. ’ ’ 

“ Unless by a firm hand at the back of the neck,” 
suggested the Scot — his name was Aytoun. 

42 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


‘ ‘ I mean that a person shouldn ’t devote too much 
time to studying them and their ways,” said Mr. Burl- 
ing quietly. “ Aylmer was a man in the C.S. who 
made a pet of one — he had been for some years at one 
of the loneliest stations in the Bengal Presidency. 
There were not half a dozen people to whom he could 
speak, and he had no liking for sport. I suppose he 
was shunted off there because he was known to be a bit 
queer and uncompanionable. At any rate he made a 
pet of the thing and got so attached to it that he was 
never happy unless it was either twisting about his 
neck or lying on his sofa. He took to playing on the 
flute to it, and a chap in the Forests told me that he 
used to pass Aylmer’s bungalow at midnight and hear 
him playing away while the creature danced on a car- 
pet in front of him, and he would pet it in the pauses. 
This sort of thing went on for a year and Aylmer 
neglected every scrap of official work — such as it was 
— that he had to do. When at last some one was sent 
to make a report upon him, he found the poor devil 
quite off his head. He was singing love-songs to the 
beast, and, by George, from the way he raved it was 
perfectly plain that when it stood up dancing before 
him, he saw it, not as a snake but as a dancing girl, 
lithe and lissom and entrancing — I’ve seen some of 
them that suggested snakes, but I ’ve never seen a snake 
that suggested a girl.” 

‘ ‘ And what happened ? ” 

‘ ‘ What could happen ? The chap who was sent to 
make the report, saw that Aylmer was too far gone to 
43 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


be talked to that night ; but he sent off for a medico to 
come on the morning, and went asleep in his room, 
hearing Aylmer up to the moment when he dropped 
off, singing away at the top of his voice to his darling, 
and at intervals calling it all the endearing names in 
the Persian dictionary, for Aylmer was great on Per- 
sian. He slept until morning and then he was awak- 
ened by the khitmutgar. Aylmer was lying on the 
floor of his room, dead of a snake-bite, and his pet had 
disappeared. I read a poem which was found among 
his papers — written to the snake. Curious, isn’t it, 
the horrible fascination which this snake business has 
upon one? ” 

“ The fable of Lilith has its significance,” re- 
marked Professor Dugdale, who had joined our circle. 

There is hardly a mythological system that does not 
include a snake.” 

‘ ‘ In the one that we know most of the snake plays 
a prominent part,” said Mr. Aytoun. 

“ I heard of another chap who made pets of 
snakes,” resumed Mr. Burling complacently. “ They 
used to come to the table at breakfast with him, and 
every one of them knew its own saucer of milk. He 
had to go home in a hurry leaving them behind him, 
and it was not until he was parted from his pets that 
he came to know how closely they had twined them- 
selves round his life. He became depressed and began 
to mope before he had been at home for more than a 
month ; and when he consulted a specialist he was told 
that there was nothing for it but to go back to India 
44 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


as soon as possible. He did so and he is there alive 
and well to-day. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ And are the snakes thriving also ? ’ ’ 

“ I can’t say for certain. You see the chap got 
married, and his wife gave one of the grooms twenty 
annas to cut their heads off. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Who was the specialist ? I didn ’t know that there 
was any specialist on snake diseases,” said some one 
with a carping tendency. 

“ Oh, aye; I have known of some,” said Aytoun. 
“ I heard of one being consulted in a case that bore a 
striking resemblance to the one quoted by Mr. Burl- 
ing ; the patient had come to Scotland and was pining 
away through leaving his snakes behind him. His 
friends called in the specialist, and he said that unless 
the man got back to his snakes his life wouldn’t be 
worth a month’s purchase.” 

“ And he went back to them? ” 

* ‘ No ; you see his folk were Scots and a bit near. ’ ’ 
“ Near? Near what? ” 

‘ ‘ Near — near — close-fisted — economical, you would 
call it — and so after consultation they bought him a 
jar of 'leeches to try if they would have any effect 
upon him — you see they were cheap. ’ ’ 

“ Quite so.” 

4 ‘ Aye ; and he was cheered up a bit for a time. 
But the effect wore off, and he became lonesome once 
more. Then they went a bit further and tried what a 
basket of live eels would do for him. ’ ’ 

“ And did they do for him? ” 

4 45 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


‘ ‘ Aye, for a time ; but he got bad again and they 
sent for another specialist. He diagnosed the case at 
once, and agreed with his brother that without snakes 
the man would die. But he said that there was no need 
for him to leave home : he would send some medicine 
round that would produce the desired effect, and the 
next morning a quarter-cask labeled ‘ Old Highland 
Malt ’ arrived with directions for one tumblerful, 
slightly diluted with water, to be' taken every hour, 
day and night.” 

“ And the results ” 

‘ ‘ He hadn ’t been following the specialist ’s advice 
for more than a month when he saw all the snakes that 
he had ever been accustomed to, and more — and he was 
as happy (in its Scot signification) as he could wish.” 

“ It took him a whole month to effect his cure? ” 
said a carper. 

“ Aye. Didn’t I mention at the outset that he ' is 
a Scot? ” said Mr. Aytoun. 

“ Curiously enough,” said the doctor, “ when we 
were leaving Demerara last trip a young Scotsman 
who was coming back with us as a passenger wanted 
to bring aboard with him a good-sized rattlesnake 
which he had in a cage; but the Captain would not 
allow it to be brought up the hand-rail, and the man 
was forced to send it ashore again. But he had his 
revenge, for he smuggled aboard the most virulenl 
of bagpipes I ever heard, and he used to play pibrochs 
and things in his cabin for hours at a time. The 
passengers, after a day or two, said if they had to 
46 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

choose between the pibroch and the rattlesnake they 
would have had the latter. ’ ’ 

That was the last of the stories. We heard eight 
bells strike and Mr. Aytoun suddenly remembered that 
his glass had not been filled for some time. He was 
informed that he could not be served with another 
drink ; the bar was closed at six bells. 

The Scot was indignant. “ Was there ever such a 
fossilized company as the Royal Mail? ” he inquired. 
“ Did they ever expect to pay a dividend to the un- 
fortunate shareholders? ” 

But there was no help for it : he had to turn in 
without having another drink. Personally I do not 
think that he had any reason to be absolutely thirsty. 

“ Oh, may there be no closing of the Bar 
When I put out to sea,” 

^ ^e his last words before entering his cabin. 

There was a good deal of vibration throughout the 
steamer that night, the fact being that the channel was 
rather lumpy. I felt inclined to agree with the city 
surveyor who reported that the Atlantic was badly out 
of repair and recommended a steam-roller. Before 
many hours had passed I was in a position to bring 
one particular steam-roller under the notice* of any 
Atlantic vestry that might need such a machine. But 
~ •‘Aink that I might have contrived to snatch a sleep 
or an hour or two at the intervals of the steam-roller’s 
tumbling into the trough of the seas, had it not been 
for the vigilance of the engine-room staff. Every 
47 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


quarter of an hour during the night and all through 
the dreary, sleepless morning there came from the 
engine-room — my cabin was amidships — a very de- 
mon’s tattoo played by a resonant iron saucepan on 
the blade of an iron furnace-feeder. Every fifteen 
minutes, with painful punctuality, I was in a position 
to realize what it is to superintend the riveting of the 
plates of a boiler, or to appreciate the reasons for the 
stupefaction of a swarm of bees when the bee-wife 
batters on her tray. 

I learned afterward that this was the signal of one 
set of stokers to those on the opposite side that they 
were about to stoke. Should any doubt have been 
entertained as to the regularity with which they per- 
formed their duty on this night, it would have been in 
my power to dispel such doubt. After an hour or two 
I was able to analyze my feelings on the subject of the 
tattoo, and I was in a position to affirm that it was not 
so much the noise itself that kept me awake, as the 
painfully expectant waiting for it to be resumed dur- 
ing the interval that the stokers were pulling them- 
selves together for a new effort. Like Eugene Aram, 
I stared aghast at sleep all that night, and long before 
morning I had come to the conclusion that the illustra- 
tions of the tortures of the Medieval Hades which 
illuminate the frescoes in the Campo Santo at Pisa 
could be materially augmented. 

I still think, however, that I might have snatched 
an hour’s sleep out of the Pandemonium of the engine- 
room, had it not been for the diligence and energy with 
48 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


which the decks were scrubbed just above my head. 
It is well known that a spring-cleaning is conducted on 
a heroic scale every morning aboard every steamer that 
sails on the sea; but that which began at five o’clock 
on the decks of the Avon was the most drastic under 
which I have ever lain awake. It made me fidgety. 

Before 6 a. m. I was prepared to suggest a still 
further augmentation of the lurid frescoes of the 
Campo Santo. 

When, an hour later, I tumbled out of my bunk I 
found thaff the hot- water pipe by which the cabins are 
rendered stifling, if thought necessary, had leaked 
badly during the night. I stepped into three inches 
of water, and found that the lower portion of my deck- 
trunk and the whole of my camera were submerged at 
intervals as the water maintained its level but the deck 
of the cabin did not. 

More frescoes! 

‘ ‘ Aye, ’ ’ said my friend Aytoun, when I gave him a 
list of my sufferings, “ aye, man, this all sounds bad 
enough, but you must mind that the officers of the 
Royal Mail are entitled by their charter to wear side- 
arms. ’ ’ 

“ I can quite understand why the privilege was 
granted to them : it is to give them a chance of defend- 
ing their lives against the indignation of the passen- 
gers,” said I. “ But I fancy that the officers suffer 
as much as we do. It is the directors who might claim 
the right to carry revolvers.” 

I found out in the course of time that my surmise 

49 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


was true. I never met an officer in this service who did 
not strike me as being a most capable and intelligent 
man. But the control department was a monument of 
incapacity. Since I took my voyage there has been a 
revolt of shareholders. I can say for certain that the 
sympathies of all the passengers with whom! came in 
contact are on the side of the revolutionists. 

The attendance at breakfast on the first morning at 
sea was rather meager. Professor Dugdale, however, 
put in an appearance at our table and Major Heber, 
carefully concealing whatever freshness he may have 
felt. Mrs. Heber had taken pains with her toilet, and 
was as appropriate as usual. The purser had the 
aspect of a man who is the recipient of many com- 
plaints, confidential and open, but who has no com- 
plaint to make to any one on his own account. Indeed, 
it is difficult to see how a purser can complain. There 
is no one to whom he can apply for an ear of sym- 
pathy. A purser should be perpetually clad in oil- 
skins — the mental equivalent to the tarpaulin. The 
stream of complaints which daily descend upon him 
should be diverted into channels and then allowed to 
drain off. 

I rather think that Purser Beddoes of the Avon 
has mastered the science of surface drainage by this 
time. I said something to him involving a reference 
to elementary hydrostatics. He winked confidentially, 
saying : 

“ A duck’s back.” 

|* Of course every purser aboard a passenger-steamer 

50 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


is held responsible for bad weather. The weather is 
entirely within his department, and he accepts the 
responsibility with a light heart. He admits that it is 
bad, but not half so bad as it was the voyage before ; 
and it is perfectly certain to clear up within a day or 
two. Would we not have entered the Tropics? he in- 
quires, in answer to inquirers: and of course we all 
feel as cheerful as if we were on land sitting down to 
our morning pipes and papers. 

Mr. Beddoes is a man of wide experience of men 
and women, Presidents of South American republics, 
and negroes. He told me two stories. One had refer- 
ence to a republic, the other to a negro. It appears 
that when Brazil was about to declare itself a republic, 
the way the officials showed themselves to be in deadly 
earnest was by filing the imperial crown off their brass 
buttons. They filed away all through one night, ex- 
pecting that the revolution would take place at the 
exact time stated in the official program of the revo- 
lutionaries : if a republic fails in punctuality in regard 
to its birth, how can it be depended on later ? But in 
the morning it was found necessary to postpone the 
carrying out of the plot for some time, and there were 
the officials left with the crownless buttons on their 
jackets and no possibility of replacing them: for the 
astute shopkeepers, feeling that a revolution was about 
due, had refrained from laying in any stock of impe- 
rial-crowned buttons. The consequence was that for 
some days all who were entitled to wear buttons were 
keeping out of the way of those of the imperial party 
51 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

who might reasonably be supposed to possess the impe- 
rial attribute of the eagle-eye. The revolution was 
actually precipitated to save the brass buttons of the 
custom-house staff. 

The negro story was very pleasing to Professor 
Dugdale, who had been discoursing in a very interest- 
ing way on the descent of man — from the trees where 
he had lived for some hundred thousand years or so. 
Now, the whole argument in regard to the arboreal 
origin of man turns upon the prehensile toe, though 
some say that it hangs on to the reprehensible tail. 
The tail had been atrophied out of existence, and so 
had the toe, Professor Dugdale assured us. 

“ Oh, no, sir,” said the purser. “ The prehensile 
toe is still in pretty fair working order, I can assure 
you. Last voyage I was shaving in my cabin one 
morning when the steamer was lying off Dominica. 
I was giving all my attention to the square of looking- 
glass in front of me, when my port became suddenly 
obscured. I did not look round for a moment, fancy- 
ing that it was merely the sail of a cargo-boat passing 
close to the ship ’s side that darkened the cabin. But 
hearing a queer, scraping sound behind me I turned, 
and I can tell you that I got something of a start to 
see a human leg, coal black, thrust from the outside 
through the port, and feeling its way gingerly and 
with all the toes moving like the fingers of a hand 
round the brush and comb and the other articles on 
my shelf until they came upon my watch and chain. 
They became rigid over the case of the watch, which 
52 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

they daintily picked up from the shelf, the chain hang- 
ing down. The leg was being slowly withdrawn, and 
positively I was too stupefied to do anything for a 
moment; then, recovering myself, I made a slash at 
the leg with my razor. Down crashed the watch, there 
was a yell outside and a splash in the water. I ran 
to the port, and was just in time to see a big nigger 
climb over the gunwale of one of the flat-bottomed, 
coffin-shaped cots which swarm alongside the steamer 
at nearly all the islands. I saw with satisfaction that 
the rascal ’s left leg had a gash on it a good two inches 
long. That was all right, so I finished my shaving — 
after I had wiped and restropped the razor, for I had 
spoilt its edge. There was a prehensile toe for you, 
Professor Dugdale. I have seen a nigger pick up with 
his toes an extra ace from where he had placed it ready 
for such an emergency when engaged in a friendly 
game of cards — that was all in the day’s work; but I 
thought that prehensilliness was going a little too far 
when it came to trifle with the watch and chain on my 
cabin shelf.” 

Professor Dugdale was delighted with this evidence 
of the survival of what he had believed to be a lost 
art. 

I complimented the purser on having a story ready 
for any emergency — a life-buoy sort of story which he 
could detach at a moment’s notice for the rescue of a 
messmate from a sea of dulness. 


53 


CHAPTER V 


I pound my deck-chair and placed it to the lee of 
the companion ; and before long the seat next to mine 
was taken by Mr. Ormsby, the elderly gentleman whom 
I had noticed at lunch with the very pretty daughter. 
The very pretty daughter had not appeared at break- 
fast I had noticed with regret. 

We immediately began to talk, and I found that he 
was quite pleasantly communicative. Before lunch 
he had told me that he was not taking the voyage for 
his health — no, he had other reasons. He had been 
advised — he gave an enigmatical little laugh, dwelling 
upon the word advised — to try what the effect of a 
long voyage would be upon — well, upon a family mat- 
ter. 

I could not say that his explanation was wholly 
lucid. This definition of the experiment which he was 
trying was a trifle indefinite. What could be the effect 
of a long sea voyage upon so vague an abstraction as a 
family matter was certainly open to conjecture. But 
I thought that I would not be very wide of the mark 
were I to assume, until we got on a little further, that 
the abstract family matter was susceptible of identifi- 
cation with a very pretty daughter. Had he been 
54 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


advised to find out what effect a long sea-voyage would 
have upon his daughter? 

Was it a case of neurosis, I wondered. Had Miss 
Ormsby been worrying herself, as so many young 
women do nowadays, over some “ mission ”? Had 
she been puzzling herself into a fever over some 
“ message ” which she felt that she should give to 
the world? Or was it simply district-visiting and 
laborers 1 cottages? 

I came to the conclusion that it was nothing seri- 
ous, for I recollected the little laugh which the father 
had given when referring to the family matter; so I 
nodded to let him know that I recognized that family 
matters were sometimes not easily explained to a 
stranger. 

I knew that he would confide in me — up to a cer- 
tain point — possibly up to the point of being interest- 
ing — before long. I should have been greatly disap- 
pointed if he had refrained from doing so. There is 
scarcely anything that a man will not confide to an- 
other aboard a ship, just as there is nothing that a 
woman will not communicate to so sympathetic an 
auditor as the attendant at the waiting-room of a rail- 
way terminus, or the young lady who comes to massage 
her. 

Of course we hastened to talk of the West Indian 
Islands, but I soon found that he took very little inter- 
est in this topic. He supposed that the islands were 
very beautiful. If so, he feared that they must be the 
breeding-ground of mosquitoes. He hoped that the 
55 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


heat would not be excessive — he suffered greatly in 
hot weather. He did not mind cold. He had bathed 
in the open air, until a year or two ago, as late as 
November. Of course it was all habit. He rather 
wished that he had tried a voyage to Australia; but 
Australia was so very far away. It seemed like cut- 
ting oneself off from everything. In his young days 
the voyage to Australia took seven months. He had a 
brother who had taken seven months to go to Calcutta, 
and that was only forty years ago, mind. He had no 
wish to go to India or Japan. As a matter of fact, 
if any one had told him six months ago that he would 
be at this time crossing the Atlantic for pleasure — 
well, no, it could hardly be called pleasure — but he 
hoped for the best. ... It had been his wife ’s idea ; 
and if she did not understand what was best for their 
daughter, who could? Well, well, girls are queer 
things — but he had every hope — his daughter was his 
daughter, and her mother was a sensible woman. It 
was a pity that she was not a better sailor, in that case 
she would be aboard the Avon at that moment. His 
daughter was suffering, but not so much as he had 
expected she would. It really had been a very bad 
night, and there seemed to be a consensus of opinion 
among the passengers that the steamer was not a good 
sea-boat. The purser had told him that the Tropics 
would be reached in a day or two, and then of course 
it would be all right. 

I acquiesced in the purser’s opinion, and awaited 
further confidences. They quickly came. Like every 
56 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


other person who is anxious to become an agreeable 
companion, Mr. Ormsby was ever in search of an audi- 
ence with a sympathetic ear to whom he could confide 
the story of his life. He paid me the compliment of 
assuming my sympathy; and he did not make a mis- 
take on this particular point. My sympathies are ever 
with an elderly man of no special intellectual re- 
sources who undertakes the management of a daughter 
with such eyes as those of Miss Ormsby. 

And this, I soon found out, was what my com- 
panion had done. He told me that he lived in a town 
in the Midlands, where he had made a competence — 
he used the word competence , but he made a little 
pause, and gave a little smile before pronouncing it, 
and from this fact I gathered that he had made a for- 
tune by his business — not merely an ordinary London 
fortune, but a Midlands fortune. He had had a strug- 
gle for a good many years, of course, but happily a 
war or two taking place at the right time had been of 
so much advantage to him that he had suddenly found 
himself in a position to get married and to retire from 
the active management of the business which he had 
built up. He had, however, taken the precaution to 
float the concern after the third year’s most successful 
trading, and he assured me that he had no reason to 
regret taking this step. Trade is fluctuating. It is 
best to get rid of a business when it is at its best and 
not when it begins to decline. Fortunately, he was 
not materially affected by the falling off in his busi- 
ness as soon as it had been floated. 

57 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

He gave me some excellent advice, financial and 
fiduciary, before telling me that his daughter was his 
only child. Her education had caused him much anxi- 
ety — indeed, he thought that no one .who had ever 
tried the experiment would doubt that a daughter was 
a much more serious responsibility to a father than a 
son would be. To be sure, a son when he got on a bit 
was always liable to throw money about. A neighbor 
of his had quite recently been forced to pay six thou- 
sand pounds to save his son from an extortion — oh, the 
old story — only she was particularly clever in this 
case, and had got the young fellow to sign a paper. 

. . . But a daughter — well, the danger with a daugh- 
ter was the possibility of her forming an attachment 
to an adventurer — some fellow who hoped to have 
something to say to the spending of her fortune. Now 
that was the very mischief — girls are easily imposed 
upon. They did not value in the least the sterling 
qualities in a man. A young jackanapes with a waxed 
mustache and plenty of shirt-cuff — that was the sort 
of fellow who was attractive to a girl, if he had read 
aright certain books that purported to deal with this 
matter. 

I wondered what guide-books he had been study- 
ing, but I did not interrupt his narration, and slowly 
and sadly he told me that he greatly feared that his 
daughter was no exception to the susceptible class 
which he was bringing under my notice. He assured 
me that no one could have been more careful than he 
had been, not merely in warning her against adven- 
58 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

turers with waxed mustaches, but in preventing her 
from coming in contact with any such fellows. He 
had never allowed her to go out alone from the time 
she was fifteen — that was some years ago; and her 
mother had been most careful as to the men with whom 
she danced — there is a great deal of gaiety in the 
Midlands — when dancing was unavoidable. In spite 
of all this care and attention, she had had no fewer 
than three proposals in as many years. 

All of them had been moderately impecunious, and 
therefore ineligible. Fortunately, Myra — that was his 
daughter’s name — cared for none of them; and her 
father was hoping that she would maintain the reputa- 
tion for good sense which she had thereby acquired in 
his eyes, when in an evil hour she had gone on a visit 
to her aunt — her mother’s sister — in London, and al- 
though her mother had been with her all the time, she 
had contrived to fall in love with a young fellow whom 
she had met one evening, and who had taken her and 
her aunt’s party to some theater and then to some 
preposterously expensive restaurant with palms and a 
string band, to supper. 

And her mother had been with her all the time— 
that was the curious part of it. Her mother was a 
woman of great intelligence, but he feared, with only 
a small amount of knowledge of the world. He could 
not blame her. It was her suggestion that he and his 
daughter should go on a long sea-voyage — that would 
at any rate separate the girl from her lover for some 
months, and this was the most important thing. It 
59 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

would at least show the fellow that he, the father, 
was in earnest. It would also show the girl that he 
was in earnest. 

I said, “ Quite so,” and he seemed quite pleased. 

I did not like to ask him as to the items of ineligibility 
of the pretender. I felt that to do so would be to sug- 
gest that I was anxious to pry into the most sacred of 
my neighbor’s affairs, and every one knows that it is 
the man who prys who learns least. 

I was dying to hear the details of the detrimental 
—the story of the detrimental is invariably the one 
that interests a reader, and the more details of his 
detrimentality that can be given the better is one sat- 
isfied. In this case, however, I knew that I might 
trust to the indiscretion of the father to interest me 
in such particulars at a later period of our acquaint- 
ance. He had done very well during the couple of 
hours that we had been together. 

“ A girl is undoubtedly a great responsibility, 
sir,” I said, just to let him know that I regarded this 
as the moral of his story : I was merely repeating his 
own phrase. 

He shook his head, uplifting his hands— his atti- 
tude was one of abject acquiescence — such an acquies- 
cence as men only show in a truth that has come from 
their own lips. 

“ A great responsibility! ” he murmured. After 
a pause he turned suddenly to me, saying in a more 
confidential tone still: 

“ Don’t you think that Mrs. Ormsby’s notion was 
60 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


a good one — separating the pair, yon know ? Yon see, 
the poor girl has never been from home. She thought 
it a great thing, no doubt, when the first man that she 
met in London proposed to her. Of course we in the 
Midlands know the exact value of London folk ; but it 
would be too much to expect that a girl situated as my 
daughter was should do other than take them at their 
own valuation. Don't you think that this knocking 
about the world will cure her of her folly, eh? " 

I thought of what the commercial gentleman had 
said while we were still alongside the quay at South- 
ampton, on the stimulating effect of travel upon the 
mind, and I said: 

“ I think that there is nothing that so opens the 
eyes of people to the realities of life as travel. ’ ’ 

“ I'm so glad that you think so : I value your opin- 
ion very highly, sir, ’ ’ he said. 

4 4 You do me honor," I said. “ I hope that every- 
thing will turn out satisfactorily. Miss Ormsby is a 
singularly attractive girl, if I may be permitted to say 
so, and, as you have just mentioned, she is your only 

daughter. It would be a great pity if — if " 

4 4 If she were to throw herself away upon the first 
adventurer who had his eye upon her money — that is 
what you were about to say? " 

“ Quite so — you have said exactly what is in 
my mind. There is no disguising the fact that a 
young woman is either made extremely happy or ex- 
tremely miserable by marriage, and that is why her 
parents ..." 

5 


61 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I really could not press out the platitude to its full 
length; my companion seized upon the fag-end of it 
as eagerly as if it had been a precious truth which I 
was formulating for the first time. 

“ That’s it — that’s just it,” he cried. “ I knew 
the first moment that I spoke to you that you were a 
man of intelligence. I wonder if it would be too much 
— that is, if it would be quite in your line to say a 
word or two to my daughter on this subject, should it 
ever turn up in the course of conversation? She 
would listen to anything you said, I am sure, sir. ’ ’ 

This flattery I felt to be cloying; but it was so 
innocently flung at me, it counted for nothing. I won- 
dered if making money was the recreation of innocent 
people in the Midlands. I had always been of the 
belief that astuteness was the main essential to any 
practical scheme of making money at the expense of 
the less astute. 

“ I am afraid that Miss Ormsby would regard my 
interference in the light of an impertinence — and she 
would be right,” said I. 

“ Oh, you have not quite grasped my meaning,” 
he cried quickly. “ I said, only should conversation 
turn in the direction of — of — whatever we were talk- 
ing about. I hope that you don’t think that I have 
taken a great liberty in making such a suggestion to 
you, sir.” 

“ On the contrary, my dear sir, I feel immensely 
flattered, I assure you, ’ ’ I replied. 1 1 Only — well, you 
see, girls are not as a rule so communicative as — as 
62 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

they might be, but should Miss Ormsby give me a 
chance of expressing my opinion on any point that 
needs needs — well, that needs an expression of opin- 
ion, I think that you may depend on my saying to her 
something of what I have said to you.” 

This was certainly vague and non-compromising; 
but he received my assurance with enthusiasm. 

“ 1 should be deeply grateful to you,” he said in a 
low voice, for there was a glimpse of sunshine on the 
water in the distance, and some of our shipmates had 
come close to us to observe the phenomenon : he wished 
the subject of our conversation to be in some measure 
confidential. 

Then we rose together, and held on to the bulwarks 
with one hand and to our caps with the other while we 
gazed out across the waves — brown and murky, with 
here and there a dash of dirty green in a hollow and a 
flash of soapy froth making an artificial curl on the 
summit to where a broad ray of colorless winter sun- 
shine overbalanced itself from the edge of a flying 
cloud. There was a quivering of silver on the water 
out in the distance, and, after a few moments of ever- 
shifting, ever-varying light, there was a gleam upon 
the sails of a ship that seemed to leap into the light. 
That was all. But the effect was cheering, and it gave 
something like an artistic finish to a conversation that 
was becoming somewhat embarrassing to me, though 
apparently not so to my companion. 

But then it must be remembered that during the 
morning I had played the part of the listener, while 
63 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

Mr. Ormsby had conducted the conversation. It is not 
the fluent conversationalist who feels embarrassed; it 
is the one on whom devolves the interpretation of the 
more important role of the interested auditor. 

On the whole I felt grateful to the rift in the cloud 
and the sliding wisp of sunshine, though I also felt 
that I had given to me by that father the first thread 
of a little romance, which I hoped that I might be 
able to wind up to the last strand on a spool, so to 
speak. 

At lunch Mrs. Heber wanted badly to know if I had 
come across any one interesting aboard, and I was able 
to assure her that I had come across an innocent gen- 
tleman who had made a fortune in business in the 
Midlands. 

She was incredulous, but quite ready to be in- 
formed as to how he had done it. 

“ It is necessary to be innocent at the start, ’ ’ said I. 

‘ ‘ Oh, then, the revelation was no use to you, ’ ’ she 
said with a slyness, which, quite apart from the point 
of her remark, was very pleasant to submit to. 

That was why I sighed, and stroked my gray patch, 
murmuring an “ alas.” 

“ I hope his daughter will soon be able to leave her 
cabin, ’ ’ said Mrs. Heber, and her remark let me know 
that she had noticed my proximity to Mr. Ormsby half 
the morning. “ He does not say that she is very ill, 
does he? ” 

“ I gather from a remark or two he let drop that 
the daughter is in no immediate danger; but how on 
64 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

earth did you know that she was his daughter and not 
his wife ? ’ ’ I inquired. 

“ I asked the advice .of the stewardess on this 
• point,” she replied. “ In addition, I talked to the 
young woman for close upon half an hour when you 
were swapping imbecilities with your friends in the 
smoking-room last night. She is a charming girl, and 
I shouldn ’t wonder if she had a story. ’ ’ 

Is it possible ? Do not raise my expectations. A 
story— and from the Midlands.” 

Why not ? Why should the Midlands be exempt 
from all that makes one’s life interesting? ” 

“ A story interwoven with one’s life makes it in- 
teresting — to other people. Did Miss Ormsby give 
you an outline of hers? I suppose she had her heart 
set upon a wealthy, middle-aged company promoter, 
and her guardians insist on her marrying a poor young 
electrical engineer.” 

“ I don’t think that it can be on those lines. She 
is too sweet a girl to be capable of anything so original. 
Besides, she is delighted at the prospect of a voyage to 
the West Indies.” 

I could not but smile, thinking of the adroitness of 
that young thing being more than a match for Mrs. 
Heber’s worldly experience: she had given Mrs. Heber 
to understand that the prospect of the voyage was de- 
lightful to her. 

“ Why do you smile in that way? ” the worldly- 
wise one inquired. It seemed that I could not keep 
even my smile to myself. 

65 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ I was thinking that that was last night,” I re- 
plied. ‘ ‘ I wonder if every prospect pleases this morn- 
ing? ” 

She joined me in my smile; but I was not clever 
enough to be able to say whether she was smiling 
at my innocence in trying to deceive her in regard 
to my smile, or simply because I had suggested to 
her a melancholy picture of a cabin sofa with a 
stewardess trying to show her sympathy for the suf- 
ferer. 

I might have given away the secret of the Ormsby 
family under the pressure of Mrs. Heber’s cross-ques- 
tioning, only for the purser’s coming unconsciously to 
my relief with a story of the directorate of the com- 
pany. 

“ It was after the voyage before last,” said this 
officer. ‘ ‘ One of the directors — a gentleman who had 
never been aboard a steamer in his life except on the 
ocean service between Dover and Calais — made up his 
mind that he would be very thorough in the discharge 
of his duties, so he began by asking for the engineer’s 
reports of the voyage and the captain’s log. He had 
no remark to make regarding the former, they were 
Greek to him; but he found the captain out before 
he had gone very far. 4 Gentlemen,’ he said, to the 
other members of the Board, ‘ I have been particularly 
struck by the condition of things prevailing aboard 
our steamers. Knowing all that I know now, I can 
only say that I am surprised that some great disaster 
has not taken place long ago, considering the way that 
66 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


the men who are responsible for the safety of the ships 
and the human souls aboard discharge their duties. 
On every page of every log-book that I have examined 
I find the entry, “ Bridge, six to eight bells,” or 
‘ ‘ Bridge till sunrise. ’ ’ That is a pretty frank confes- 
sion, gentlemen — a pretty brazen confession, I have no 
hesitation in calling it ; for I have observed that it was 
just when the master of a steamer might reasonably be 
supposed to be most vigilant — when the vessel in his 
charge is approaching land, and it is so necessary to 
take soundings, we find that they are playing Bridge 
sometimes for four hours at a time. Gentlemen, I 
hope that you will join me in putting down this 
practise with a strong hand! ’ ” 

I felt greatly obliged to Mr. Beddoes for his oppor- 
tune narration. It started the topic of Bridge, and no 
incipient love-story had a chance of reaching adoles- 
cence in the face of such competition. I had to do no 
more smiling to conceal the confidences with which I 
had been entrusted. Within a few minutes Mrs. Heber 
had forgotten that we had been talking of Miss Orms- 
by — she had forgotten everything save only the possi- 
bility of establishing a Bridge-party on a sure founda- 
tion. 

I felt it better to vacate the chair next to Mr. 
Ormsby on deck; the fact being that I thought that 
I had had enough of his story to go on with for some 
time. I was selfish enough to feel that it would be 
more or less awkward for me to be overburdened with 
confidences, though I could not deny that I was inter- 
67 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

ested in some measure with all that he had communi- 
cated to me. 

I found that I had no need to feel that my selfish- 
ness would mean the isolation of Mr. Ormsby. I found 
him after dinner in the smoking-room in close conver- 
sation, though I could not believe that it involved an 
exchange of confidences, with a young man who wore 
spectacles and was generally very presentable — his 
name was Jaffray and he was giving respectful atten- 
tion to all that Mr. Ormsby was saying. He offered 
his cigar-case to Mr. Ormsby and Mr. Ormsby called 
for whiskies and sodas. 

My Scot was once again my companion in the smok- 
ing-room, and he had discovered a rather interesting 
little man, who wore a good-sized diamond stud which 
shone like a silver lake out of the depths of the rugged 
cliffs of the astrakhan collar of his overcoat. He 
smoked immense cigars, very rank of flavor and gen- 
erous of nicotine. 

My friend Aytoun introduced me, and when I 
heard that he was Colonel Laurence, I recollected 
having seen his portrait in some of the illustrated 
papers in connection with the lecturing tour of a ce- 
lebrity of the hour. Colonel Laurence was the head 
of a lecture agency. The moment that a man had at- 
tained notoriety by writing a notorious book, or a 
woman had bounced into fame, using the Divorce 
Court as a spring-board, the agent of the Universal 
Lecture Bureau secured him and her for a tour 
through the United States. The Bureau had no rooted 
68 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

objection to intellectuality now and again, but being 
business men they knew perfectly well that intellec- 
tuality can not compete with notoriety as a draw. 

Colonel Laurence said so quite frankly when he 
had lighted his third cigar of exceeding rankness. 

“ Our ideal lecturer is a Dean of the Church of 
England who has killed his wife for conscience’ sake,” 
he said, with a dreamy look of unrealized ambition in 
his eyes. “ A handsome blonde who has run away 
from her husband in order to be free to run a new re- 
ligion, sir, a fortune is waiting for her in the States. 
But we don’t object to a poet who is the sole survivor 
of the wreck of an Atlantic liner.” 

“You have never thought of forcing their hands,” 
said I. 

“ I don’t quite see ” 

“ I only mean to inquire if it has never occurred 
to you to — well, to give some of them a helping hand 
to fame by arranging for incidents containing all the 
elements out of which the needed notoriety shall 
spring? ” 

“ There’s money in that idea,” said he, thought- 
fully. “ If I take you up right, you would hint at the 
possibility of fomenting a quarrel between the Dean 
and his wife over the Athanasian Creed or sinking the 
liner for the sake of creating a sole survivor? ” 

“ Well, does your Bureau not possess an execution 
department? ” 

“ Give us time, sir: we are young yet: I admit 
there’s business in your notion, but until we feel our 
69 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

feet well under us, we must be content to work on the 
haphazard principle of picking up notoriety as it ap- 
pears. ’ ’ 

“ It seems to me that there is no need to resort 
to any artificial means to stimulate the growth, 
remarked Mr. Aytoun, dryly. “ So far as I am 
able to judge the supply of notoriety is still abun- 
dant. ’ * 

“We don’t complain, sir,” said Colonel Laurence. 
“ I believe that there will be enough to go round for 
some time yet, if economically used. I hope before I 
die to have royalty on my list. ’ ’ 

“ You might begin with the Balkan States,” I 
suggested, “ and feel your way up from that.” 

The Colonel shook his head, and smiled with great 
gentleness. 

“ You haven’t mastered the first principles of suc- 
cess in our line, sir, ’ ’ said he. ‘ ‘ There ’s no such thing 
with us as working up or feeling our way. No, sirree ; 
we come upon the public with a burst, or do nothing 
at all. We’ll burst our royalty upon those simple re- 
publicans or let it alone. An Emperor — that ’s my am- 
bition. I wouldn’t insult the nation by offering them 
an ordinary Royal Highness. ‘ The Confessions of 
an Emperor ’ — see that on a hoarding — red capitals 
on a purple ground ? ’ ’ 

Colonel Laurence wiped the emotion from his fore- 
head and sighed. 

“ You’ll do it yet, Colonel,” said Aytoun, encour- 
agingly. “ You have pulled off some good things since 
70 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSPIINE 


you were bankrupt over that operatic venture that you 
told me of long ago.” 

“ I did not know that you had ever been an im- 
presario,” said I. 

“ I was once young,” said the Colonel. “ I fan- 
cied that there was money in Art. ’ ’ 

“ Oh, you thought to combine Art and artistes? 
Well, there are some people who think that literature 
and the stage can be associated with profit.” 

“ I don’t,” said the Colonel, “ at least not now.” 


71 


CHAPTER VI 


At last we were in the Tropics: I felt sure that 
even the Avon would eventually reach the Tropics if 
she only held out long enough. The officers appeared 
in spotless tunics. This is the compliment which they 
pay to the Parallels irrespective of the weather. We 
were under awnings, and we found them very con- 
venient, not because they decreased the risk of sun- 
stroke, but by reason of the shelter they afforded us 
from the rain. We blustered into Cancer and found 
that the temperature was that of Virgo and the atmos- 
phere that of Aquarius. Passengers in overcoats com- 
plained bitterly to the purser. 

And then one morning we came on deck and found 
the steamer sliding along through a still blue sea, be- 
neath a still blue sky. The gentle flip of a flying fish 
sounded from the ripples over which we were looking 
in delight, and about midday Mr. Burling brought a 
crowd to the port quarter to witness the combat of a 
whale and a thrasher. It was a sight not to be seen 
every day, and Mrs. Pritchard, in the exuberance of 
the novelty, ran to the smoking-room, where her hus- 
band was playing Bridge with some veterans. 

“ A fight between a thrasher and a whale? ” her 
72 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

husband repeated. “ Who told you about it, my 
dear? ” 

‘ ‘ Mr. Burling : he was looking over the side, and 


“ Oh, no, I won’t stir on any report of Mr. Bur- 
ling, ’ ’ said her husband with the laugh of a skeptic. 

“ But it’s there — it’s going on out there.” 

“ If it had come from any one except Mr. Burling 
—I believe that I would look for it even on the word 
of the purser — but Mr. Burling — oh, no. Pass me the 
other pack, Aytoun.” 

Mrs. Pritchard declared that never again would 
she tell her husband what was going on, even though 
it was a ship on fire. 

He thanked her in the courteous manner of hus- 
bands, and she went away with a whisk. 

The fact was that Mr. Burling had during the week 
been making some rather erudite discoveries both in 
the air and the ocean. He had no reluctance in com- 
municating them to his fellow passengers morning 
after morning, for as luck would have it his finest 
efforts were achieved in solitude. 

He had caught sight of a sword-fish when glancing 
out of his cabin port one morning, and he gave so 
circumstantial an account of the monster that any one 
could have identified this particular one out of a whole 
piscatorial armory. He had seen a shark make an at- 
tempt to follow and swallow a flying fish in mid-air. 
He had seen a huge turtle swimming strongly south- 
ward, and when the story came my length it contained 
73 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

the apocryphal addition to the effect that the turtle 
had raised a fin to its head, saying, “ Clear or thick, 
sir? ” 

He had not yet apprised us of his discovery of the 
sea-serpent, but we were expecting this every day. 

After the turtle story Mr. Burling, for some reason 
or other, went by the name of de Rougemont in the 
saloon of the Avon. No one ever alluded to him by 
any other title. Indeed, from the self-depreciatory 
way in which he smiled when some one addressed him 
under the name of the eminent naturalist who pub- 
lished his adventures with turtles and tattoos some 
years ago, I was pretty sure that he felt flattered by 
this subtle allusion to his gifts. At any rate he was 
the means of stimulating the imagination of some of 
his shipmates, for every day a new story was circulated 
and the authorship attributed to him, and once when 
the dinner menu was crowned with “ Soup— Mock 
Turtle,” several copies of the carte were found to 
contain the additional words, “a la de Rougemont 
Burling. ’ ’ 

It was rumored that Colonel Laurence had made 
him an offer for a lecturing tour in the States. 

Our plunge into sunshine brought about a consid- 
erable change in the conditions under which we were 
living. The whole saloon seemed to feel the effects 
of the warmth. Professor Dugdale explained to us 
with his customary lucidity that man’s entrance upon 
a long course of criminality synchronized with his mi- 
gration from the warm climate where he originated 
74 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


to the regions of fluctuating temperatures, which ne- 
cessitated his killing animals in order to appropriate 
their furs, and eating their flesh to supply warmth to 
his body. The first man-migrant was undoubtedly 
Cain, he added, and his enforced migration was the 
bitterest part of the curse that had been laid upon him. 
We all owed Cain a grudge to-day, Professor Dugdale 
assured us, and the rheumatic ones among us cordially 
agreed with him. 

But undoubtedly the sunshine that, as did the gen- 
tle rain from heaven to the Antient Mariner, slid into 
our souls, made us tolerant even to Cain. We entered 
with spirit into all those active games which we reserve 
for hot weather. We got up bean-bag tournaments, 
cricket, bull, and hockey, and there was quite a run 
upon lemon-squashes. After dinner we forsook the 
smoking-room for the deck, and Captain Pellew, the 
young officer of Dragoons who had never been known 
to speak to any one aboard except a steward, and who 
had sat down every evening in the saloon with his 
mother to play Patience, actually ventured on deck in 
the moonlight, and having a bit of recklessness of the 
ideal cavalry leader about him, he did not hesitate to 
smoke a cigarette. 

With the arrival of the fine weather one of the most 
remarkable incidents of the voyage took place. I have 
already referred to Miss Ethel Hope, the beautiful 
girl who was chaperoned with such depressing con- 
scientiousness by the Krux family supplemented by 
Mr. Sowerby. The vigilance of these dragons in regard 
75 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


to this golden apple of girlhood was positively revolt- 
ing, and it certainly was referred to in adequate terms 
by some of the passengers (male), and I fancied that 
now and again I noticed indications of rebellion on the 
part of the young woman herself. I could not wonder 
at it. She was not permitted to walk alone across the 
deck; if the female dragon failed to accompany 
her, one of the males — sometimes both — took her in 
charge, and upon no occasion had she a chance of 
speaking to any one unless for a few moments at 
a time. 

This excerpt from a page of a medieval history 
went on for a week, and it could not have been other- 
wise than discouraging to the two young men and the 
one middle-aged, who, after finding out that the beau- 
tiful girl intended going on the tour of the northern 
islands, went in secret to the purser (separately) ask- 
ing him if it would be all the same if they were to 
change their route — they had meant to go southward, 
to Trinidad and Venezuela, on arriving at Barbados; 
but they thought that on the whole the northern route 
would suit them better. 

It undoubtedly must have been depressing to these 
thoughtful gentlemen to be permitted only to gaze at 
the golden girl, and I happen to know that one of 
them at least was driven to the verge of desperation 
by the vigilance of the dragons; and I made him 
promise me to do nothing rash — nothing that would 
cause a shock to the more sensitive of our fellow pas- 
sengers, Bloodshed was unfortunately necessary — 
76 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

nay, even commendable at times, and I for one re- 
fused to say that, looked at from a reasonably social 
standpoint, the slaughter of either Mr. Sowerby or 
Mr* Krux or both, would not be a deed to reflect upon 
with satisfaction in after years; still I felt sure that, 
looked at from the standpoint of technique, any act 
that involved violence would be regarded by the rest 
of the passengers as unfriendly. 

The youth said that I had put the matter to him 
in an entirely new light, and he promised to spare the 
Kruxes for the present, but he told me to be sure not 
to mistake his meaning: he made me this promise with- 
out prejudice to his future action. 

Thus were the Kruxes spared, and though a plot 
was set on foot for involving Mr. Krux in a game of 
Bridge and Mr. Sowerby in a game of Piquet at the 
same hour, so as to enable an earnest young man to 
get beside Miss Hope, yet nothing came of it, and the 
dragons were left to pursue their course of malevolent 
vigilance unchecked. 

But an eye was upon them, and their downfall was 
assured. I witnessed it all. It was on the day when 
Mr. Burling discovered the contest between the whale 
and the thrasher. The alarm was sounded and, as 
I have already said, there was a rush of passengers to 
the port rail. In the excitement of the moment Mrs. 
Knox and Mr. Sowerby, one of whom was on each side 
of the girl, sprang from their seats and hurried to the 
bulwarks, forgetting in their eagerness the girl who 
had been between them, or possibly taking it for 
6 77 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


granted that she was making for the same objective 
as themselves. 

Before they had quite found out which was the 
whale and which was the thrasher — assuming that they 
saw either, which is going far — Major Wingfield, with 
the astounding promptness of a lame man, had seated 
himself in the place just vacated by Mr. Sowerby, and 
was telling Miss Hope that he felt he should ask her 
if she was any relation to Oswin Hope of the Ghour- 
kas. 

I saw how the girl became alert — with a touch of 
color in her face — in a moment, as she said : 

“ He is my brother. I wondered if you were the 
Major Wingfield who went up with him to Chitral.” 

“ Oh, we went through the whole of that show to- 
gether,” said the man. “ Did he squeeze my name 
into one of his letters to you? I feel as if I had been 
mentioned in a Gazette.” 

“ You know what such a feeling is,” she said, 
quickly. “ I read what General French wrote about 
you in his despatch. I was greatly interested, knowing 
that Oswin knew you. I sent him out the newspaper 
with the full account of the fight. You got a horrid 
wound. ’ ’ 

”1 got a brevet majority and a D.S.O.,” said he. 

At this point Mrs. Krux rushed back from the bul- 
warks, followed by Mr. Sowerby. They stared at the 
interloper and at the golden girl, but the two contin- 
ued their conversation without the slightest show of 
abasement. 


78 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ Is it possible that you didn’t see the fight between 
the whale and the thrasher? ” asked Mrs. Krux in a 
voice that was meant to command attention. She had 
seated herself beside the girl, Major Wingfield being 
on the other side. 

Oh, no, replied Miss Hope, resuming her con- 
versation on the other side. 

It was most interesting : you may never see such 
a thing again! ” said Mr. Sowerby, sadly — he was 
standing — waiting for Wingfield to rise. 

But Wingfield showed no disposition to rise. That 
morning Miss Hope and her guardians had not been 
seated on deck-chairs, which are proprietary, but on 
the skylight seats which all passengers paying cabin 
fare may occupy. Major Wingfield was now enjoying 
the one which Mr. Sowerby had recently occupied. 

I am glad that I missed that shocking sight, * ’ 
said the girl, quietly. “ I can not bear a fight, espe- 
cially between animals: it is so horribly cruel.” 

Then she turned once more to Major Wingfield, 
saying : 

“ Oh, yes, I sent out the paper to Oswin with the 
full account of your affair. I was so glad that those 
dreadful Boers did not get off scot-free after you were 
wounded . 9 9 

“ They certainly didn’t: we managed to account 
for eighty of them,” said he. “ You see, the Irish- 
men— the Munsters— came up with their bayonets. 

‘ D °n’t stir, sorr,’ a sergeant called out to me, ‘ we’ll 
come back for you when we’ve finished them off ! ’ I 
79 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


obeyed him : I did not stir, and they came back wiping 
their bayonets.’ ’ 

The girl’s face was glowing — the face of the girl 
who abhorred fights. 

“ That was splendid! ” she cried. “ Poor Oswin 
felt very bitter that he had no chance of getting to 
South Africa.” 

“ Oh, the Ghourkas are always at it,” said he. 
“ We of the gunners are compelled to take pot-luck.” 

“ Don’t you think that we had better go to our 
deck-chairs, my dear ? ’ ’ said Mrs. Krux, giving a very 
good example of the perpendicular style of architec- 
ture. 

“ I am quite comfortable here,” said the girl. 
“ Perhaps it is necessary for you to sit lower down, 
Major Wingfield? ” 

“I’m all right,’*’ said he. “I notice that Heber 
has appropriated my deck-chair in order to keep Mr. 
Jaffray abreast of the times in regard to Buller. It 
would be a pity to disturb him, wouldn’t it? Are you 
going the round of the islands ? So am I. We should 
have a fairly good time. You have a camera, of course ? 
You’ll find that you’ll squeeze lots of fun out of it. 
Only a beginner ? That ’s nothing. It ’s the same with 
photography as it is with other forms of gambling: 
fortune favors the neophyte. May I show you mine 
after lunch? I may be able to give you a hint — a low- 
down sort of a hint, for I don’t know too much about 
the business myself.” 

Miss Hope said that it was most kind of him. She 

f 80 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

would be delighted to have a lesson from him after 
lunch. 

This amounted to the making of an appointment 
for after lunch : but it wanted an hour of lunch-time, 
and this space was fully occupied by Major Wingfield 
and the sister of his old comrade. They had never met 
before — consequently they had a great deal to talk 
about — a great deal that did not seem in any way to 
concern either Mrs. Krux or Mr. Sowerby, but that 
seemed to concern very closely both Major Wingfield 
and Miss Hope, and, incidentally at least, three of 
their fellow passengers, to say nothing of myself — 
though the matter was interesting only because I was 
a disinterested onlooker. 

Within the sphere of my onlooking there loomed 
large and gloomy the face of the young man who had 
been meditating the annihilation of the Krux- Sowerby 
dynasty. I saw that his murderous intentions were 
still in his heart, only their object had been changed. 

He asked me what on earth people meant by un- 
dertaking the guardianship of a girl if they allowed 
every plausible fellow to push himself into the place 
which certainly should have been occupied by one of 
them. 

And after lunch the golden girl was on deck once 
more, bearing her camera. The wily guardians had 
evidently held a council together to decide upon some 
plan of concerted action in view of what had occurred 
during the morning, and the result of their delibera- 
tions was shown by the arrival of Miss Hope on deck 
81 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

in the position of a prisoner between two guards, and 
with another walking behind. When she had seated 
herself— they marched her to the deck-chairs this time 

Mrs. Krux was on one side and Mr. Krux on the 

other. Mr. Sowerby was within hail in case of need. 

Never had Miss Hope shown herself to be on 
friendlier terms with her guardians. She had plainly 
meant to adopt the policy of the habitual criminal 
who gives no trouble to the police when captured. 
She chatted quite genially to Mrs. Krux while the 
latter did some fancy-work. 

And then Major Wingfield limped up followed by 
his man servant carrying his camera. 

The girl was on her feet in an instant. 

“ Do take my seat,” she cried. 4 ‘ It is very bad 
for you to stand.” 

‘ ‘ Pray don ’t think of stirring, ’ ’ he said. 4 ‘ Philip, 
fetch my deck-chair and place it here,” he added, 
turning to his man. 

“ Very good, sir,” said the man, hastening to 
where the deck-chair was sprawling. 

But this deck-chair was rather an awkward one ; it 
was of the invalid pattern, with a fixed support for 
a limb that had recently been shattered by a Boer 
bullet. The fabric would not go within reasonable 
distance of Miss Hope’s light deck-chair, and the 
Kruxes sat immovable as figureheads on each side. 

“ I can manage it,” said the girl. 

And so she could; for she gave her chair a jerk 
that brought it three feet in advance of the Kruxes’ 
82 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


seats, and alongside Major Wingfield’s. Another 
little jerk to square it brought it so as to give Mr. 
Sowerby the best back view of it attainable, and then 
Miss Hope seated herself. 

It took Major Wingfield two hours and ten min- 1 
utes — the calculation was made by an independent 
authority — to explain thoroughly all the perfections 
of his Kodak. 

And then it was very convenient — Miss Hope 
agreed with him that in an emergency the Kodak 
was a marvelously convenient machine. It could ac- 
complish a great deal — more even than the book of 
instructions claimed for it. 

But after all a ten-minutes’ instruction with the 
instrument before one is worth a whole encyclopedia 
of explanation. 


83 


CHAPTER VII 


By the end of the second day of our genial weather 
most of us were disposed to agree most cordially with 
Professor Dugdale ’s dictum that the earliest migrants 
in the human race had been fools. Under the awn- 
ings of the deck, with a sober consciousness of azure 
above them, we all became human and some of us be- 
came friendly. Miss Ormsby and I became friendly, 
possibly because I carefully refrained from touching 
upon the matte* upon which I had (in a sort of way) 
promised her father to give her good advice — that is 
to say, such advice as was in accordance with his in- 
tentions. 

I may remark that her father had never asked me 
what progress I was making in the task which he had 
set me the simple task of turning away a girl ’s heart 
from the man on whom her affections are set. I fancy 
that from the first he thought me lukewarm in this 
particular matter. And if he did he was quite right. 

I was rather less than tepid in my desire to give un- 
palatable-advice to a young woman with companion- 
able eyes, especially when my sympathies were alto- 
gether on her side. Her father had made out a good 
prima facie case, so to speak, for his daughter. Every- 
84 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

thing that he had said upon the occasion of our first 
interview had tended to the accumulation of my sym- 
pathy for the girl ; and I fancy that he suspected as 
much; and therefore he addressed himself to a more 
promising person. 

He and Mr. Jaffray became extremely intimate. 
They smoked side by side, they discussed trade in 
the Midlands, prospectively and retrospectively— a 
prospective view of business simply resolves itself 
into a question of the prospects of a prospectus — and 
it seemed as if Mr. Ormsby had found some one to 
whom he could open his heart with a better chance 
of obtaining sympathy than he had found his first 
essay aboard the Avon to afford him. 

The consequence was that I found several oppor- 
tunities of sitting by the side of Miss Ormsby, while 
her father and his new friend were at a distance. It 
appeared to me that the young man was rather shy. 
I was beside Miss Ormsby when her father brought 
him up to introduce him to her, and he certainly ap- 
peared nervous. He had all the fluency of the nerv- 
ous man, chatting of inanities, while the girl sat before 
him with her head bent and her long lashes lying 
upon her cheeks which had become rose-tinted. 

She had scarcely exchanged a word with him that 
time, though with me she had been chatty rather than 
silent as a rule; so I was not surprised that Mr. Jaf- 
fray should show no great desire to force himself 
upon her. He seemed to be quite content to enjoy 
her father’s society, and as the girl was never at a loss 
85 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


for some one to talk to, there was no ground for com- 
plaint in any direction. 

It was when we were within a day’s steaming of 
Barbados that I found myself beside Miss Ormsby on 
the deck. We had come up from tea together, and 
she said something to me about a book which I had 
lent her The day before. Still talking of it, we had' 
strolled very far aft, and as some games were go- 
ing on amidships, we were left out of hearing of 
the few passengers who were to the lee of the deck- 
house. 

I stood with my back to the bulwarks for a short 
time, and then seated myself in her father’s deck- 
chair. I made a harmless remark regarding Miss 
Hope and the rout of the Guards Brigade — we had 
ceased to call them the dragons. 

“ Over- vigilance in parents and guardians is cer- 
tain to be defeated in the end, Miss Ormsby,” said I. 
‘ ‘ And its defeat obtains the widest sympathy. That 
is why Romeo and Juliet, and the Jessica scenes in 
The Merchant of Venice are so popular.” 

‘ ‘ I wonder if that is really so, ’ ’ she said, thought- 
fully. “ And I also wonder if you have anything in 
particular on your mind which causes you to say this 
just now.” 

“ Perhaps I had you in mind, Miss Ormsby,” 
said I. 

“ Oh, then I know that my father has been talk- 
ing to you about me,” she said, quickly, and with a 
flash of color in her face. 

86 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ He did me that honor the first morning after 
leaving Southampton,” I replied. “ I felt that he 
meant to do me especial honor : his confidence implied 
a certainty that I was worthy of it, you see. 1 ’ 

“ He thought that he could get you to assure me 
that he was in the right and that I was in the wrong, ’ ’ 
said she. 

“ I am afraid that that is so.” 

‘ ‘ Then why did you not do what was expected of 
you ? Why did you not begin to lecture me the first 
day you spoke to me? ” 

‘ ‘ Because I am going to do it now, Miss Ormsby. ’ 9 

“ Oh, no: you are not. I know that my father 
was deceived in you: your heart was never in this 
work. ’ 9 

“ My heart never entered into the question. It 
was your heart that was the subject of your father’s 
confidence and of my consideration.” 

‘ 1 Oh ! He confided in you ? I suppose you fancy 
that you know the whole story of my — my — he would 
call it foolishness? ” 

‘ ‘ A father is capable of anything. I am not capa- 
ble of calling it foolishness.” 

“ You say that although you have not heard my 
side of the story? ” 

“ You would not expect to hear me say it after 
hearing your side? ” 

She looked at me straight in the face for some mo- 
ments. Without taking her eyes off me, she said : 

‘ ‘ Do you know I am getting to like you — rather. ’ 9 
87 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ Couldn’t you withdraw that 1 rather ” I 
asked. 

“ Yes, I like you, and I may have to get you to 
help me out of a difficulty some day. I foresee myself 
getting into a difficulty, and I may want you to act in 
regard to my father as he wanted you to act in regard 
to myself. ’ ’ 

“ But, you see, I betrayed the trust that he re- 
posed in me. ‘ He has deceived her father and may 
thee! ’ ” 

il I am sure that you will be on my side when you 
hear my side of the story. My father acted most 
unreasonably — he has always acted unreasonably in 
regard to me. I did not mind that so long as his un- 
reasonableness referred to the people whom I did not 
care about — the people to whom I was indifferent. ’ ’ 

“ That was natural. One can put up with a good 
deal of unreasonableness when it only affects other 
people.” 

He had got it into his head that I was a great 
heiress— the only great heiress in the world— and that 
in consequence every man whom I chanced to meet 
would want to marry me. ’ 9 

‘ ‘ After all, that wasn ’t so unreasonable. ’ 9 
“ ft was ridiculous to suppose that no one except 
an unscrupulous adventurer would want to marry me. 
But there’s no use dwelling upon that, for whatever 
may have been in the hearts of the men whom I met, 

I had no intention whatever of getting to care for any 
of them ; so I really didn ’t much mind being as care- 
88 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


fully guarded as if I were a princess on whom the 
hopes of an empire depend. What I complain of is 
that when I chanced to meet in London with a man 
whom I really cared about and to whom no exception 
could possibly be taken, my father would not even 
allow his name to be mentioned; assuming from the 
outset that he was actuated by unworthy motives in 

trying to get me to respond to — to ” 

“ To his protestations. I take it for granted that 
he protested something. It was against his protesta- 
tions that your father protested/ ’ 

“ It was — without seeing him — hearing him — 
making an inquiry about him — without even allow- 
ing his name to be mentioned : he does not know to this 
day what the man’s name is. Now don’t you think 
that I have good reason to call that unreasonable on 
his part? ” 

“ I am bound to say that I take your view of the 
matter, Miss Ormsby. I wonder what my views on 
this matter would be if I were your father. I think 
that it is very likely that I would be as unreasonable 
as he is — perhaps more so. ’ ’ 

“ Surely you would at least have asked what was 
the name of the man? ” 

“ I am not so sure of that. Hearing the name 
represents the thin end of the wedge. I think that I 
would have had the sense to condemn the man with- 
out hearing his name. ’ ’ 

“ Surely a daughter is entitled to be treated as a 
responsible human being. ’ ’ 

89 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ But a daughter’s lover has got no rights. He 
should be condemned unheard. The privilege of a 
trial by a jury of his peers, is not for such as he. ” 

“ I thought that your sympathy was ” 

‘ ‘ So it is. Only — well, if I were the father of such 
a girl as you, I think I should resent most bitterly the 
approach of any one who might threaten to deprive 
me of your society. When you come to think of it, 
the whole system of love and marriage is extremely 
hard upon the father and mother of the girl. Good 
heavens! A man slaves away half his life — all his 
life — in order that his daughter may be able to dress 
well and to be sufficiently educated, and just when she 
is in a position to repay him for all that he has done 
for her, by making his home beautiful, a perfect 
stranger lounges up, sings a song under her window, 
and then suggests that she should make his house 
beautiful for him, and leave her father’s house deso- 
late ! I tell you, my dear young lady, one should not 
complain of the unreasonableness of a father until one 
has settled the question of the impudence of a lover.” 

“ So you are pleading my father’s case for him, 
after all? ” 

“ I am pleading the case of every father who has 
any affection for his daughter. Don’t you really feel 
in your heart of hearts that you are treating your 
father very badly, Miss Ormsby? ” 

‘ I suppose — strictly speaking . . . oh, it’s too 
late talking that way now. It is useless looking back 
the mischief has been — I mean till I was lucky 
90 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


enough to meet the only man who ever — oh, you are 
leading me on only to laugh at me. I don’t like you 
now, not even rather.” 

“ My dear child, if you fancy that I see anything 
to laugh at in the situation you are greatly mistaken. 
I think that the man — the only man who ever — is the 
luckiest in the world, and I hope that you may be the 
luckiest girl in the world. Of course, your mother is 
on your side ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ How did you know that ? Why, my father does 
not know it. ’ ’ 

“ That means that your mother is a very clever 
woman. ’ ’ 

“ So she is. She never goes against my father in 
any matter; and he believes that he always has his 
way in everything.” 

‘ 4 And he thinks so still — in this particular matter 
that concerns you all so closely ? ’ ’ 

Miss Ormsby laughed quite pleasantly. 

“ Yes, he actually thinks that this voyage will — - 
bring me to my senses — I suppose that that is the 
phrase which he made use of to you in talking about 
it? ” 

“ He told me that he had great hopes of the voy- 
age — that meant the same thing.” 

‘ 4 Poor papa ! He did not strike upon the idea of 
the voyage himself. It was mother who suggested it. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ But you told me that she was on your side ? ’ ’ 

“ That was just it. My father has great hopes of 
the voyage and so have I. Poor father ! He thought 
91 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

that he would never be able to prevail upon me to go 
with him on this voyage ; and he was quite surprised at 
my agreeing without a word.” 

She paused and gave another little laugh. 

That set me asking why she should have agreed 
without a protest to a long and unsatisfactory separa- 
tion from “ the only man.” I wondered was it be- 
cause she thought that when her father found out at 
the end of the voyage that her heart remained un- 
changed, he would recognize the futility of holding 
out any longer against her heart ’s desire ? 

“lam sure that the long separation will only 
strengthen your affection,” I ventured to say. “ If 
your father should find out that this is so, I think 
that he might see his way to consent to give you his 
blessing and all the money that he can spare.” 

“ That is just where I think you may be able to 
help us, said she. “ At the end of the voyage — per- 
haps even before the end, an explanation will have to 
be made to father — a peculiar explanation. It may 
annoy him ; but I think that, with a little talking to 
by you, he may be brought to— to— to look at every- 
thing in its proper light.” 

‘ ‘ I would not advise you to trust too much to me, ’ ’ 
said I. “ You must remember that it is quite contrary 
to legal usage for the lawyer who has been briefed for 
the plaintiff to turn round and plead the defendant’s 
case. I am afraid that your father would think it 
rather mean of me — perhaps he would refuse to hear 
me.” 


92 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


She smiled, saying : 

' “ Oh, in this particular case I don’t think that you 
need fear much in that way. But sufficient unto the 
day — you do not quite know all that there is to be 
known in regard to this voyage.” 

“Iam beginning to feel that there are a few points 
on which I should like to be enlightened. One is, how 
it comes that your father, who has always done his 
best to surround you with a cordon to keep off the 
enemy, should have suddenly suffered his vigilance to 
relax ? Of course, I do not say anything in regard to 
myself — mine are a sort of counsel ’s privileges, though 
I am afraid that I have not been over-conscientious in 
the spirit in which I interpret them: but there are 
others — I saw him present Mr. Jaffray to you a few 
days ago. ’ ’ 

Miss Ormsby laughed until her face was pink. 

“ He has become great friends with Mr. Jaffray,” 
she said. “ Mr. Jaffray is a barrister: perhaps my 
father had an idea that he should have a junior in the 
case against — against — the defendant. I don’t say 
that he was wrong.” 

“ Now you are reproaching me for my perfidy to 
your father. Well, I don’t say that I am beyond re- 
proach in this respect. But the reproach should not 
come from you, that ’s certain. * 9 

“ It is quite certain. I will not say a word against 
you — provided that everything turns out well.” 

“ That will be very kind — and womanly of you. 
Miss Ormsby, ’ ’ said I. 

7 


93 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Our conversation then dwindled out in mere inani- 
ties — sheer inanities; for before I could make an at- 
tempt to pull its head round, so to speak, young Gil- 
bertson dodged round the deck-house to tell us that 
we were due at Barbados in the morning, and he hung 
about with the chirpy expression of one who has made 
a curious discovery and expects that his announce- 
ment of it will be received with acclamation. 

Young Mr. Gilbertson had brought a very fine fur 
coat aboard with him — a fur coat and a collection of 
sixpenny novels belonging to the Dick Deadwood 
series, so popular with the greengrocer ’s staff. He 
had continued wearing the fur coat long after we had 
entered the Tropics. He hugged it to him with all the 
pertinacity of the original bear that had supplied a 
portion of the lining, at considerable personal sac- 
rifice, and only when the temperature got up to 70° 
Fahrenheit did he relinquish it. Mr. Gilbertson knew 
the social value of a fur coat; and indeed so long as 
he wore it people treated him almost as an equal ; but 
when he was compelled to lay it aside he did not seem 
to be the same man. He knew that this was so, and 
he had at once assumed a deprecatory style. He 
seemed for a day or two to be looking about for 
something for which he could apologize. He said 
“ please ” to the assistant steward. 

His announcement to us that we were due at Bar- 
bados the next morning seemed to be the result of a 
bold attempt on his part to regain the position that he 
had lost. He undoubtedly felt that it was successful 
and that was why he was so chirpy. 

94 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Of course Professor Dugdale was able to tell us all 
about the origin of the effect of a fur coat. The wear- 
ing of the fur of wild animals testified originally to the 
progress of the hunter; and (as he had told us several 
times before) the mighty hunter was the most highly 
respected of the tribe. The bestowal of admiration 
upon the wearer of these trophies of the chase became 
an instinct — instinct being simply the result of long 
custom — and the respect that, up to the present day, 
is given to the wearer of furs, even though he may be 
personally as insignificant as Mr. Gilbertson, was a 
survival of this same unreasoning instinct. 

I think that we all felt greatly pleased at the 
chance of disrespecting Mr. Gilbertson, now that it was 
lucidly explained to us why we had been so silly as to 
respect him while the thermometer had been low. 
We made up our minds that we would always be on 
our guard in the future, lest we should be made to 
look foolish by yielding to the influence of an instinct 
that should never have survived the discovery of gold 
as a means of purchasing as much honor as the 
slaughter of half the jungle could command. 

If I had not been thinking so much about Miss 
Ormsby and her love-affairs I feel certain that I should 
have broken down under the weight of my reflection 
that we were parting company with Colonel Laurence. 
He was going on in the Avon to Venezuela, whereas 
we were to transship for the Northern Islands. 

I was very anxious to know what was taking him 
to Venezuela. I knew that, since the days of Sir Wal- 
ter Raleigh, Venezuela has been the land of splendid 
9o 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


possibilities; but what were its possibilities in regard 
to the lecture-platform? 

Colonel Laurence gave me a hint as to his aims. 

“ It’s about time that there was a revolution 
there, ’ ’ he said, “ and in case it comes off before the 
President has raked together his million, he may be 
glad to know where he can look for a livelihood if he 
survives. I ’m going to make him an offer anyway on 
behalf of the Bureau.’ ’ 

4 4 Until your Emperor turns up you are going to 
give your clients a series of Presidents? Well, I wish 
you luck,” said I. 

The next morning I was aroused early by the 
silence in the engine-room. The customary rattling 
of the stokers’ shovels against the iron doors of the 
furnaces had ceased. The propeller was at rest, and 
the absence of its vibrations made me feel quite lonely. 
I looked out of my port and saw at a distance of some- 
thing under a mile the long, low shore of Barbados. 


96 


CHAPTER VIII 


There was in this first glimpse of Barbados little 
to suggest the ideal island of coral and coconut. To 
one whose memory is stored with the literature of 
buccaneers, pirates, gentlemen adventurers, and Crom- 
well in Ireland, the aspect of Barbados as seen from 
the sea can not be otherwise than disappointing. For 
years of my life the mention of the name Barbados was 
enough to bring before my eyes a picture of tropical 
luxuriance — cliffs crowned with palms, a jungle of 
brilliantly colored flowers down to the water’s edge, a 
stream trickling through the depths of a dark valley — 
a white coral strand with a lazy breaking wave. In the 
offing there was evermore swinging at anchor a 
schooner or two with raking masts and a brass swivel- 
gun in the bows. The red caps of the crew of this 
craft gave the right note of tropical color to the ani- 
mated part of the scene. The same red caps sparkled 
in the sunlight that poured down upon the boat which 
was being rowed ashore, steered by a brawny, black- 
bearded desperado wearing a cutlass and a pistol or 
two of abnormal size thrust carelessly through a broad 
leather belt with an enormous brass buckle. 

Barbados and Hispaniola and Jamaica — Port 
Royal, Port of Spain, Spanish Town, St. Kitts — these 
97 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


names, each and all of them, were to me as the little 
click from the platform is to the man who works the 
magic lantern at the back of the hall: the mention 
of any one of them was sufficient to project a glowing 
picture before my eyes. 

And here I was standing on the deck of a steamer 
looking across the gray-green water at the low coast of 
the Island of Barbados, the most commonplace picture 
that could be imagined. It might have been the Mar- 
gate coast. It certainly was a good deal less tropical 
in its appearance than many of the villages of the 
Italian Riviera, Santa Margherita, Rap alio, or Chia- 
vari, where the palms and lemon-trees make a glorious 
show. 

It took me some time to conjure up once more the 
picture which I had often seen during the previous 
year when “ working up ” the history of Cromwell in 
Ireland — before I succeeded in imagining myself to be 
on the deck of one of the fleet which was despatched 
with thousands of Irishmen, Irishwomen, and children 
aboard “ for the plantations of the Barbadoes.” I 
had often pictured to myself that scene, but with a 
much more striking background than this coast — the 
poor wretches, who had survived the massacres of 
Drogheda and Wexford, only to be shipped out to this 
strange place — there they lay in chains after a couple 
of months tossing between decks, waiting until the men 
wearing the broad-brimmed hats of fine white straw, 
came up the rail to carry them into the slavery of 
bond-servants on the plantations. 

98 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

Alas ! I was able to see the scene very much more 
vividly when seated in the reading-room of the British 
Museum than I did now, when I was standing on the 
deck of a ship whose anchor might have been biting 
the sand within a yard or two of the spot where the 
anchor of one of those old, high-pooped ships may have 
been dropped. 

But for that matter it is possible that the scene 
which I was trying to bring myself to imagine never 
did take place. The writers of historical novels are 
criticized by the indulgent reviewer in this fashion : 
i 1 Of course no one looks for historical accuracy in such 
a work as that under notice, but the writer need not 
have set facts at defiance as he has done in almost every 
chapter / 9 

Quite so, but the question is, What are historical 
facts? One historian who is widely trusted asserts 
that 40,000 souls were shipped from Carrickfergus for 
Barbados, a large fleet of English vessels being re- 
quired for the job. But we find that another declares 
that only thirty deportations were made after the sack 
of Drogheda. An authority whose general accuracy 
was scarcely questioned, gave an account of the massa- 
cres at Drogheda, and the slaughter of the priests. 
But in one of his letters Cromwell challenges any one 
to prove that there was any massacre whatever at 
Drogheda or elsewhere, carried out by his order. 

This last statement is accepted by many people as 
such a settlement of the question as should satisfy the 
whole world. But who can say that Cromwell’s chal- 
99 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

lenge was not taken up, and that the charges brought 
against Cromwell were not proved to the hilt, only that 
the documents to this effect were destroyed by the order 
of the man whom they implicated ? Was the Lord Pro- 
tector the sort of man who would allow such a record 
to stand? I think he was not such a man. For two 
hundred and fifty years the tradition of the massacres 
of Drogheda and Wexford has survived in Ireland, 
the “ curse of Cromwell ” representing an extremity 
of objurgation that had its milder equivalent in Scot- 
land at the time of the Black Douglas. Is there any 
one who will say that the Black Douglas is white? 
But the Douglas tradition did not survive his century, 
whereas the “ curse of Cromwell ” is in active use two 
hundred and fifty years after the events upon which 
it was founded. I find it impossible to believe that 
any man could be so execrated by a whole nation unless 
his deeds of cruelty among them were exceptionally 
revolting. Ireland was trampled on more than once 
by an English tyrant, but the people easily forgot it. 
That is what compels me to believe that Cromwell’s 
massacres must have been exceptionally atrocious to 
arouse in a nation, to whom massacres were by no 
means strange, a feeling of undying detestation. 

Again, one may ask what is an historical fact, when 
we are told that Cromwell came to Ireland to avenge 
the slaughter of the Protestant settlers in the North by 
the wild Irish. Now, it is stated by one writer that no 
fewer than 40,000 Protestants were barbarously slain 
in 1641-42, whereas another, writing only a few years 
100 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


later, affirms that less than 4,000 were slain. Now, 
when contemporary “ history ” can be so widely di- 
vergent in its records why should any one cast upon 
the historical novelist the slur of gross inaccuracy ? So 
far as I can judge, the majority of historical novelists 
have been far more careful of their facts than the pro- 
fessed historian. Certainly the most careless novelist 
when compared with Carlyle, that mouther of mon- 
strosities — that shallowest of all critics — is a marvel 
of accuracy. 

It does not seem to have occurred to any historian 
to suggest the possibility that some thousands of Irish- 
men may have gone out voluntarily to the West Indies 
after the taking of Drogheda and Wexford and the 
surrender of Cork. It is known that numbers went to 
Spain, to France, and in other directions of their own 
free will, when they perceived what the rule of Crom- 
well would be like. Why then may one not assume 
that they took shipping to Barbados? 

Cromwell states distinctly that he shipped off a 
number to “ the Barbadoes,” but if he had not left 
that record few people would believe that, wherever he 
may have sent his prisoners, it was to this particular 
island; the fact being that the people of Barbados 
had taken steps to assert their loyalty to King Charles 
I., and it was extremely unlikely that he would make 
any move to oblige a community who had given him to 
understand that they looked on him as a regicide and 
usurper. The planters wanted nothing so badly as 
they did these bound servants, who were virtually 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

slaves. It was not like Cromwell to become the bene- 
factor of such people. 

To be sure, it would be quite possible to assume 
that Cromwell’s gift to the Barbadians of a gang of 
Irishmen was a grim attempt on his part to pay them 
the grudge that he owed them. He may have thought 
that he was making them a donation of hornets. His 
design may have been to chastise them for their stub- 
bornness in refusing to recognize the Commonwealth. 
However this may be, it appears to me that if he had 
not left the record in black and white of having de- 
ported the survivors of the massacre at Drogheda to 
Barbados, it would have been open to any one ac- 
quainted with the political situation at this island to 
affirm that it would be ridiculous to believe that he 
had ever sent an Irishman to swell the ranks of the 
people who would have nothing to do with him or his 
Parliament. 

I have never seen any attempt made by a historian 
— a professional historian, not one of the slighted band 
of historical novelists — to account for the discrepan- 
cies in the recorded numbers of the emigrants from 
Ireland to Barbados, on the ground that some thou- 
sands of the inhabitants, seeing that their country was 
likely to be devastated by Cromwell and his army, 
crossed the Atlantic on their own account. They may 
have had their aspirations of founding a colony pro- 
fessing their faith, in the West Indies, as the Pilgrims 
had founded their New England colony ; or they may 
have heard tales of the adventurous life — with large 
102 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

profits — which, was led by a good many gallant fellows 
on the Spanish Main, and have thought that that sort 
of thing was rather better than starving among their 
bogs. The prospect of doing well for themselves and 
at the same time avenging themselves upon England 
by plundering her ships, could not but have appealed 
to the imagination of the Irish race, and one may be 
sure that the Lord Protector did not take any very 
energetic steps to prevent those who were anxious to 
leave Ireland from putting their design into execution. 

And while I am thinking over the matter, looking 
across the blue water just as those thousands of other 
Irish exiles must have done two hundred and fifty 
years ago, a boat approaches us with a band of min- 
strels aboard playing “ Patrick’s Day ” with spirit 
and intelligence. 

I need scarcely say that the sound of that melody 
banished whatever doubts may have remained in my 
mind on the question of the influence of Irish emigra- 
tion on the West Indies. 

The steamer was surrounded by a score of boats 
with diving boys, some of them no darker than the 
boys at Madeira and Malta, and certainly no more 
adroit either in the exercise of their profession or in 
the management of their boats, which, by the way, 
are shaped like coffins ; but any old packing-case cut 
down and with the seams filled up with putty will 
do for a diving-boat. It is not, I learned, de rigueur 
that it should be coffin-shaped, but the boys are not 
superstitious in this direction, though they are ne- 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

groes and brought up under the influence of the Sal- 
tation Army on one hand and the Obeah man on the 
other. Their sympathies and the sympathies of near- 
ly all the negro population of the Barbados, are seri- 
ously with the Obi, and incidentally with the Salva- 
tion Army. No self-respecting negro will begin the 
business of the day without arranging his charms and 
using antidotes against the effects of his (or her) ene- 
my’s charms. It requires one to possess an exhaustive 
acquaintance with the properties of a large number 
of things in daily use before one can sleep comfort- 
ably o nights or idle comfortably during the day. 
The Obi has a long arm and he has a finger in every 
pumpkin-pie, and his fingers are invariably unclean. 
The negro lives in an atmosphere of degraded super- 
stition ; and he is foolish enough to walk under a lad- 
der, to look at the new moon through glass, and to sit 
down thirteen to table (when it is made worth his 
while). I have also heard that he will look with com- 
placency at a single magpie; but I can not believe 
that he would be so callous as to do this. 

It was when I went ashore at Bridgetown that I 
made my first acquaintance with the negroes of the 
West Indies in the mass. Aboard the Avon all the 
deck-hands there are no sailors in the Service: all 
are deck-hands— were negroes, and a few of the stew- 
ard s assistants. But now I found myself plunged 
at once into the black gulf, and for two months I was 
perpetually struggling in its depths. I may find it 
convenient to give in this place in as few words as 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

possible the result of my brief experience of the ne- 
gro of the West Indies. So far as I had an opportu- 
nity of judging, he is the least satisfactory of nature’s 
handiwork. He seems to have no intelligence, and 
only that form of cunning which is an insult to the 
intelligence of the people against whom it is directed. 
He is a born liar and a contemptible coward. Mali- 
cious as a monkey, he has not the monkey’s humor. 
He is insolent, overbearing, and cruel. He in no way 
resembles the genial colored gentleman of the Caro- 
lina cotton-fields, or the pleasant Krooboy of the West 
Coast of Africa. To compare him with the lordly 
Zulu, the Basuto, or the common nondescript Kaf- 
fir that one comes across in Cape Colony would be 
ridiculous. The West Indian negro would be wiped 
out of Cape Colony in ten years. It is a great pity 
that he can not be wiped out of the West Indies. 

Of course this is mere generalization. I talked 
with several mulattos and quadroons who had worked 
themselves into positions of some importance, and 
found them intelligent and in possession of some sense 
of what was demanded of them when living among 
civilized people. I met in a few of the islands St. 
Thomas and Tobago in particular — common negroes 
of obliging manners ; but these exceptions only show 
one what the negro might be, and form a glaring con- 
trast to what he actually is. 

Aboard the Amazon, to which I transshipped to 
make the tour of the Northern Islands, all the stew- 
ard’s assistants were negroes, and a more disobliging, 
105 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


careless, and unintelligent crowd could not be imag- 
ined. They made the indifferent cooking seem doubly 
bad by their delivery of it. And here I may mention 
that for sixty-five consecutive mornings I had bacon 
and eggs for breakfast. There were possibly ten items 
on the breakfast menu, but after many futile and 
regrettable experiments I invariably fell back upon 
the bacon, even though it was dumped down in front 
of me, after I had given the steward the order for it 
three times. 

“ Bring me a cup of coffee, please,” I asked of 
one steward. 

“ Cuppo coffy? yessah,” he responded, moving 

off. 

Then I called another. 

“ Jnst get me my coffee, will you? ” 

“ Coffy? yessah,” and off he would go. 

Coffee, and be quick about it, like a good chap, ’ ’ 
I said to a third. 

“ Coffy? yessah.” 

In the course of five minutes or so the cup of 
coffee was generally brought to me by one of the three ; 
but I never got a cup of coffee or anything else if I 
asked for it once only. 

But down the cup was placed in front of me, the 
saucer half full of liquid. 

“ Where’s the sugar? ” 

“ Sugar? yessah.” 

Off the fellow would go ; and the moment that he 
disappeared I gave the order for sugar to a second 
106 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


and then to a third. Eventually it arrived — never 
through the agency of the first one whom I had sent 
for it. 

Several times when I ordered something specific — 
a bottle of ginger-beer or a green-lime squash — I was 
told that neither was aboard the steamer. On going 
to the bar myself, I found that neither had been in- 
quired for by the steward ’s assistant. But I may here 
say that the rascal might reasonably have taken it for 
granted that the deficiency existed; for only for one 
week did I find the bar supplied with lemonade, and 
for days at a time there were neither limes nor lemons 
aboard the Amazon. For days we were without ba- 
nanas, for days without oranges. The lemon-squashes 
were compounded of certain acids, the effect of which 
was to discourage the use of the lemon-squash as a 
thirst-quencher. 

But if I go on much longer in this strain I shall 
run the chance of being charged with having partaken 
too. freely of the acid which did duty for the lemon. 
I will only say that I seemed to be the best satisfied 
of all the passengers aboard the four steamers whose 
cuisine I sampled in the course of my tour. 


107 


CHAPTER IX 


We went ashore in the launch, under a blazing 
sun, rounding a low but rugged point and entering 
the little estuary at Bridgetown, and steaming up a 
rather congested tidal way, just to the bridge itself. 
Some of the vessels moored along the quays appeared 
to be of two hundred or three hundred tons. 

The business bustle of the town surprised me. 
Tram-cars, drawn by mules, were flying in various 
directions, their rendezvous being the Square, in the 
center of which is a statue of Nelson ; buggies, not all 
in a condition of abject dilapidation, obstructed the 
tram-cars so far as was legitimate, and mules driven 
tandem in timber-wagons obstructed both tram-cars 
and buggies, and left a margin of obstruction for the 
inconveniencing of ordinary pedestrians. Black police 
wearing white helmets interfered as little as possible 
with the traffic, and not at all with the babble of the 
boatmen who swarmed about the bridge, or with the 
gabble of the girls— some of them well-shaped and 
neatly dressed — who tramped gracefully through the 
Square carrying washing-baskets and an occasional 
crate of fruit poised on their heads. 

Business was being done in Bridgetown, so much 
was sure. It may not have been business of great 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

importance, but it involved a deal of obstruction and 
a vast amount of shouting. The only lordly, leisured 
class are the soldiers, and they are to be found by 
the dozen in the Square and in the High Street, the 
shoppy thoroughfare. In their gorgeous Zouave uni- 
form, tall fezes, and white gaiters, they looked to an 
indulgent eye all that a soldier should be — insolent 
as to their expression, and disinclined to give way to 
a civilian, however civil, when on the foot-path. This 
is the proper martial spirit, and it has attained to a 
truly tropical growth at Barbados. 

The general negro population in Bridgetown are 
so busy that they have no time to stand to converse; 
they have their conversations all the same, however, 
and the way they manage it is peculiar. One woman 
sees an acquaintance in the distance and forthwith 
yells out some civility to her. The other responds, 
and they question and answer one another until they 
meet. They meet, but do not pause in their conversa- 
tion or in their walk — on they go past one another, 
and continue yelling out their inquiries without turn- 
ing their heads. They are only liable to turn the heads 
of the casual strangers to the town who have not been 
made aware of their manner of economizing time and 
space. But the soldier disdains to imitate the civility 
of these civilians. He swaggers along, a self-con- 
tained gentleman, smoking a cigarette, and you had 
better get out of his way. 

Later in the day when driving round the Savan- 
nah, I had an excellent example of the spirit that has 
8 109 


'SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

made the Barbadian Zouave what he is to-day. One 
of these soldiers was striding along wearing a very 
modern straw hat. A gust of wind carried it off; 
but instead of making the fuss which every person 
whom I have ever known would make over such an 
accident, the fellow continued puffing at his cigar- 
ette, following quite unperturbed the hat, which was 
tumbling along on its rim, until it reached a stone 
wall that resisted its impact. And there it lay until 
the owner stalked up, regained it, and put it carelessly 
on his head. 

The streets are of dazzling whiteness, and the chief 
one is kept liberally watered. It is more difficult to 
traverse than Bond Street at the height of the season, 
or one of those narrow lanes behind the square of St. 
Mark’s at Venice, on a Sunday. Like both these thor- 
oughfares it is a street of shops, the principal one 
being kept by a person with a Portuguese name, who 
occupies the proud position of the Whitely of Bridge- 
town. He is a man of weight, and I do not think that 
he errs on the side of underrating his own importance. 
His shops are really spacious, as are many others be- 
tween the Square and the Bridgetown club-house, the 
building with the twin cupolas which form such con- 
spicuous objects when seen from the anchorage. 

I had made an appointment by telephone with a 
friend who occupies an important position on the 
island, and I was to meet him at the club-house. On 
my way thither — I had made a call upon another offi- 
cial in the meantime — I came upon Mr. Ormsby. He 
110 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


was waiting outside a large drapery establishment. 
The instant that he saw me he seemed to be struck 
by a sudden idea. I saw the effect of the impact upon 
his face. 

“ You are the very man I was looking for/’ he 
cried. “ My daughter is in that shop with Mrs. 
Heber. They are choosing something that it requires 
two women to choose — that is all that I know about 
it, only that I had to give her ten pounds to go on 
with.” 

I said something which I meant to be sympathetic. 

That is not what I wanted to tell you, * 9 he cried. 

I want you to do something for me — I want you to 
take lunch with us at a hotel that people are talk- 
ing about — a beautiful drive, I am told — Hastings 
is the name of the place. My daughter will be with 
me, of course, and Mr. Jaffray — he has promised to 
come. I am told that the flying-fish they give you is 
excellent. At any rate, it will make a pleasant change 
from the cooking aboard the Avon.” 

I told him that I thought it more than likely that 
the man whom I was to meet at the club would insist 
on my lunching with him. 

“ Oh, of course, in that case — ” his face assumed 
an expression of despondency which I could not but 
interpret as extremely flattering to myself. Then he 
glanced round and laid his hand upon my arm, saying 
in a confidential way: 

“ You would be doing me a special favor if you 
could manage to lunch with me to-day. You would 
111 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

be doing me — all of us a good turn. The fact is 
I told you all about my daughter. I think it quite 
likely that things may turn out all right yet.” 

“I am glad; but I don’t quite see ” 

“You don’t quite see what your coming to lunch 
with us has got to say to the matter — eh ? Come, and 
I’ll explain it all to you as soon as we are alone. But 
if you give your mind to the matter, I think that you 
will see it all for yourself. Mr. Jaffray is one man 
in a thousand. You begin to see — eh? ” 

“ You think it’s not impossible that Miss Orms- 

by ” 

4 ‘ H ’sh. She may be coming out of the shop. They 
have been inside for more than half an hour. If she 
saw us talking together she might be frightened off.” 

“ But Mr. Jaffray— has he any idea? ” I asked 
in a whisper. 

“ Not the remotest. But he has spoken to her 
once or twice, and he suggested that we should lunch 
together at that hotel. I believe that if he got a fair 
chance — on shore — aboard those blessed steamers with 
a crowd of strangers— all ready to gossip— well, any 
young man might be a bit timid ; but on shore it is 
dfferent. My wife is a very clever woman, I think I 
told you. Well, sir, her farewell words to me were 
these: ‘ Charles,’ she said, 4 there’s no use in building 
a wall round our child any longer. We have done so 
too long already ’ — I don’t agree with her there, but 
let that pass— she is bound to get married sooner or 
later ; the only thing that we can do is to do our best 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


to see that she marries the right man.’ My wife said 
that, and I can assure you that it impressed me great- 
ly — she is a very clever woman — cleverer even than 
some men. Now, I have been a good deal with this 
young Jaffray, and I have come to the conclusion that 
he is one man in a thousand. Of course I have said 
nothing to him about my designs — my hopes; but — 
h’sh! here they come.” 

Miss Ormsby, accompanied by Mrs. Heber and a 
negro porter carrying a good-sized pasteboard box, 
emerged from the store, smiling. 

‘ ‘ They are really not quite uncivilized here, ’ ’ said 
Mrs. Heber. 

“ No place is that has tram-cars and — pasteboard 
boxes,” said I. 

‘ ‘ He is coming to lunch with us at the hotel, ’ ’ said 
Mr. Ormsby. “ He hasn’t quite promised, but he is 
going to.” 

“ I hope so,” said Miss Ormsby. “You said you 
had asked some one else, did you not, papa? ” she 
added. 

“ No one in particular — only that young Jaffray,” 
replied her father with studied negligence. 

‘ ‘ Oh, yes, to be sure : I knew that there was some 
one else, ’ ’ said the girl. 

“ Well, with some one who is no one in particu- 
lar,” said Mrs. Heber, “ and some one who is just the 
opposite ” — she smiled at me — “ you should have 
quite a happy day. I wish I had not to go to the 
General’s: I should enjoy watching your happiness.” 
113 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


We were standing by a hired landau by this time, 
and the pasteboard box was put in a safe place. Mrs. 
Ileber and her young friend stepped in, and Mr. Orms- 
by sat facing them. 

The girl cried “ au revoir ” and the vehicle drove 
off, leaving me to walk on to the club-house, filled 
with wonder at the innocent cunning of this elderly 
gentleman who had made a fortune by his own exer- 
tions in the Midlands. He had no sooner abandoned 
the theory which he had held for many years respc t- 
ing the safeguarding of his daughter, than he had 
acquired another — one which was founded on a very 
different basis. No sooner had he become impressed 
with the discovery which his wife had made — namely, 
that their daughter would get married some day, than 
he had picked a husband for her — and this the first 
young man to whom he had spoken since he had lis- 
tened to his wife ’s words of wisdom ! 

But as yet I could not exactly see where I came in 
in respect of the promotion of his scheme. Why should 
I be asked to lunch with them because he had been 
innocent enough to fancy that his daughter would 
fall in love with the first man whom he permitted to 
address her? Did he expect me to give his daughter 
some good advice? Did he expect his daughter to 
take advice, good or bad, from me? I thought that, 
having failed him once in this particular matter, he 
would give me up, and look out for another agent — 
indeed, I fancied that he had found such an agent in 
Mr. J affray, and I may have been right : perhaps he 
114 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


made advances to the young man on the basis of such 
an agency, and then conceived the idea of making 
him a principal in the transaction, not a mere agent. 

At any rate, I felt myself bound to lunch at the 
hotel at Hastings, and I would have been stupid as 
■well as ungrateful if I had considered the obligation 
in the light of a bore. Miss Ormsby was a delightful 
girl and she carried about with her a phosphorescence 
of romance which to me was very attractive. I was 
anxious to see how the little romance would end — 
assuming that the romance of love ends in marriage. 
Just at that moment it was “ anybody’s game 
anybody’s except Mr. Jaff ray’s. Whatever the girl 
would do she was not likely to throw over the man 
to whom her father so unreasonably objected, in favor 
of the one whom he submitted for her careful consid- 
eration. 

I strolled on toward the cupolas of the club-house 
and on the way was offered by a gorgeously turbaned 
negress a tray of very over-ripe bananas at the rate 
of four a penny — just the price at which I had seen 
bananas that would be passed by a good inspector, 
offered on a costermonger’s barrow in the city of Lon- 
don in the autumn. I congratulated the lady upon 
the enterprise of her colony. Here was a simple little 
island in the Atlantic and yet it could successfully 
compete with the city of London in the retail trade 
in Barbadian bananas. The enterprise of the Japa- 
nese is so great that they can successfully compete 
with Birmingham in the manufacture of Japanese an- 
115 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Equities: and perhaps the day will come when one 
will be able to buy sugar in the West Indies as cheaply 
as in England. 

It so happened, however, that among the cargo of 
the Avon which was being unloaded at Barbados, were 
some hundreds of sacks of sugar. Hearing this, I be- 
gan to despair of the West Indies. 

Bridgetown club occupies the topmost flat of a 
rather imposing building. Fine large rooms, delight- 
fully airy and spotless, some of the windows affording 
a splendid sea-view, it can easily be believed that the 
place must be a boon to the jaded official or the wor- 
ried planter. 

On the day when I drank my first lime-squash 
under its hospitable roof there was much to jade an 
official and to worry a planter. I learned that the 
merchants who had hitherto been accustomed to ad- 
vance money to the sugar-growers in advance of the 
harvest, had issued a circular to the effect that in 
future those advances would be made only when the 
crops were ready to be cut. This meant absolute ruin 
to many of the planters who had not sufficient capital 
in hand to hold on until the harvest. In such a hand- 
to-mouth way has the sugar industry been pursued 
for years. 

The prospect for the officials who are responsible 
for the peace of the island was a gloomy one, in the 
circumstances. It was pointed out to me by my offi- 
cial friend that, as soon as the thousands of negroes 
who were employed upon the sugar estates should be 
116 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


discharged, they would certainly do their best to get 
up a riot, and their efforts would be willingly sec- 
onded by the negroes in the towns, with the most ap- 
palling consequences. 

In addition to all this the Government were send- 
ing some thousands of Boer prisoners out to the island, 
and it was assumed that if there was a riot of the 
negroes the strangers would surely join them and give 
them what the negroes have happily always lacked — 
a leader. 

Knowing as I did by a residence in South Africa 
how the black races are regarded by the Boers, I was 
able to affirm in the strongest language at my com- 
mand my belief — it amounted to a certainty — that in 
the case of a negro rising, all that the authorities need 
do would be to put a rifle into the hands of every Boer 
prisoner and ask his help to restore order. Be- 
yond a shadow of doubt, I said, every Boer would 
be on the side of the Government in such an emer- 
gency. 

I spoke so emphatically — and I think that I was 
justified in doing so — that the official may have had 
a ray of hope: but I do not flatter myself that he 
was altogether reassured. It was not to be expected 
that he should be so by the word of a stranger. As 
it happened, however, the accuracy of my judgment 
was not put to the test. 

I learned that the authorities on the island are 
living in constant dread of an uprising of the negro 
population — one of those senseless, objectless insur- 
117 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


rections which have taken place in some of the islands 
in the past and against which there is no protec- 
tion. 

The worst element in this dread of a rising is, I 
think, to be found in the certainty that whatever it 
may lead to, it will bring disgrace upon the authori- 
ties. The high officials have ever before their eyes 
the case of Governor Eyre of Jamaica, whose prompt 
action averted the massacre of all the whites on the 
island, but who was recalled from his post in disgrace. 
They know that if they do not act with a strong hand 
when the uprising is in its earlier stages, it will sweep 
them away and unbridled savagery will do its worst. 

A little fire is quickly trodden out 
Which, being suffered, rivers can not quench. 


But they also know that if they take any strong meas- 
ures they may incur the blame of the Home Govern- 
ment, who object to be worried in the House of Com- 
mons by endless questions with an innuendo in each, 
referring to “ innocent bloodshed,” “ massacring 
unarmed negroes ” and kindred acts. The Opposi- 
tion for the time being are invariably tender-hearted 
— full of indignation at any active step taken by an 
official for the protection of the white population. 
The moment that they change sides in the House, 
however, that moment are their hearts hardened and 
they endeavor to show that blood was shed by the pint 
and not by the gallon. All the same they do not hesi- 
118 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


tate to sacrifice an official as a sop to their opponents, 
and of this fact the officials are fully aware. 

If ever an uprising should take place in Barbados, 
it will be conducted on a large scale. A stranger 
landing for the first time on the island is amazed at 
the insolence of the black population. But they are 
the masters of the island and know it. Happily they 
have no ability to organize. If they were to get a 
leader at any critical moment they would turn the 
island into a jungle, and not a white man, woman, 
or child would be alive inside a week. 

Within the club many cocktails are being waved 
while the crisis is being considered, and many experi- 
ences are being exchanged. From all that I hear I 
am inclined to believe that the two canes which exist 
for the chastisement of the unhappy planters are the 
hurricane and the sugar-cane. I never heard so many 
bitter things said about the sugar-cane as I did in the 
smoking-room of the Bridgetown Club. There was 
not a man in the room who did not seem to think that 
Columbus was a greatly overrated man. Pie it was 
who had brought the sugar-cane across the Atlantic. 
They seemed to think that they would have been hap- 
py this day if they had never heard of sugar. So the 
Irish peasant, after a bad year, would be ready to 
abuse Sir Walter Raleigh, the Columbus of the po- 
tato, if he had ever heard of him. 

They were much more interesting when they be- 
gan to talk of hurricanes. There was not one of these 
gentlemen who did not remember some of the noted 
119 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

visitations of this form of destruction. For an hour 
I listened to the curiosities of hurricanes. Some of 
the stories had a touch of humor. Upon the occasion 
of the last visitation, a negro householder had hastily 
made a rope fast to the roof of his cabin and sent all 
the members of his family to haul away upon it to 
windward. He himself, however, being a pious man 
— especially in hurricane times — took to praying. 

“ Oh, Lor’, we know that we’re all weak,” he 
said. “ We know that nothin’ that we can do is of 
any use before Thee — if yo’ don’t keep haulin’ at 
that rope I’ll use it on yo’ backs, yo’ lazy bones,” 
he added to his family and then resumed his confes- 
sion of impotence to the higher Power. 

In Barbados, as in all other colonies which I have 
visited, I found that the people are very fond of tell- 
ing stories against themselves ; but I should not care 
to be the one who would say anything in their pres- 
ence reflecting upon their importance. I think that 
one would get on much better with them by assuming 
that their colony is that which is dearest to the 
mother’s heart. Whatever old Mother England may 
think of her other possessions, the warmest corner of 
her heart is reserved for Barbados (or Jamaica, or 
Fiji, or Tristan da Cunha, according to the company 
where one finds oneself). 

A Barbadian gentleman laughed with the others 
in the room when he told the story of the cablegram 
that the inhabitants of the island sent to Great Britain 
on the eve of a serious war: 

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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ Don’t fear to send your ultimatum; the inhab- 
itants of Barbados are with you to a man! ” 

Of course the story is told of almost every other 
colony. The people of Melbourne tell it of the people 
of Sydney, and the people of Sydney tell it of the 
people of Melbourne. But the true spirit of Imperial- 
ism breathes through the message whether apocryphal 
or otherwise. Every soldier should fight as if victory 
were dependent on his individual exertions. Every 
colony should regard itself as essential — as indeed it 
is — to the completeness of our family party. 


121 


CHAPTER X 


I felt glad that I had promised (in a sort of way) 
to take lunch with Mr. Ormsby’s party, for had I not 
been engaged I might have hurt the feelings of some 
of the gentlemen had I chosen to lunch with any one 
of them to the exclusion of the others. They were all 
extremely hospitable for paupers trembling on the 
verge of complete ruin ; and I have no doubt that had 
I been able to partake of the six lunches that were 
offered to me, I should have found that the planters 
of this island are careful to maintain the traditions 
of its brilliant past, in the face of many difficulties. 

I was particularly anxious to hear something more 
of the settlement near Boiling Spring, which I was 
told was composed of the descendants of the prisoners 
whom Cromwell had sent out to Barbados after the 
sack of Drogheda and, later, after the battle of Worces- 
ter. I was advised not to trouble myself greatly 
about this romantic link with a period which has al- 
ways interested me much. I found that these people 
are not regarded as the aristocracy of the island, and 
that they repay a careful avoidance. 

On going into the reading-room I found Major 
Wingfield there. He hailed me, saying: 

‘ ‘ If you want to do a chap a really good turn you 
will lunch with me at Hastings.’ ’ 

122 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ I wish I could take ten lunches/’ said I. “ I 
was told this morning that I should be doing a par- 
ticularly good turn to some one if I lunched at Hast- 
ings with a certain party, and now you hold out a 
similar inducement to me. I can see how I should 
be doing myself a good turn by lunching at some one 
else’s expense, but I really can not see where my be- 
nevolence in the transaction comes in.” 

He gave a laugh, but became solemn a moment 
later. 

“You underrate your own attractiveness,” said 
he. 

“ Of course I do — we all do,” said I. “ But I 
wish you would give me a hint — it may be useful to 
me in future — as to why my company is needed at 
that hotel to-day.” 

He became thoughtful for a few seconds. He was 
searching for some explanation, but was not very suc- 
cessful in finding one. Then I could see that as a last 
resource he was making up his mind to tell me the 
truth. Into such a corner people who are deficient 
in imagination are sometimes forced. 

“ My dear chap,” said he, “you told me that you 
were very fond of animals of the cat kind.” 

“ I am, but why my affection for feline ” 

“ So I thought that I would give you a chance of 
lunching with one to-day.” 

For a short time only was I puzzled. Then the 
truth dawned upon me. Wingfield had been adroit 
enough to arrange that he was to have lunch ashore 
123 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


with Miss Ethel Hope, but of course it would not have 
been possible to exclude Mrs. Krux from the party. 
Only on this hypothesis was his allusion to a cat in- 
telligible. He was paying me a graceful compliment 
by thinking that Mrs. Krux and I should get on well 
enough together, while he and the girl might become 
better acquainted with the contents of the tropical 
garden surrounding the hotel. 

He perceived that I saw through his scheme of 
elaborate hospitality, and laughed. 

“ It’s lucky for the nation that you were not on 
the side of the Boers,” said I. “ You should surely 
be accounted one of the greatest living strategists. 
Ask me to lunch another day and I’ll jump at your 
offer like — shall I say, a cat? ” 

“ It ’s a bargain, ’ ’ said he. ‘ ‘ Where shall it be ? ’ ’ 

“ Say Prince’s, to start with.” 

“ Oh, hang it all ” 

“ Take my advice— don’t ever count on the re- 
currence of any particular situation, ’ ’ said I. ‘ ‘ Don ’t 
try to take a bond of Fate. Don’t scheme for things 
to turn out to-morrow as they turn out to-day. Al- 
ways make two bites of a cherry — the man who only 
made one bite suffers from appendicitis. Sufficient 
unto the day ” 

“ Is the moralizing thereof— take that to yourself. 
I’m really greatly obliged to you for your advice. 
Polonius was a fool to you. I feel sure that you 
would get on well with Mrs. Krux.” 

And really that was my belief too. I was sorry 

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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

that I had allowed myself to be coerced by Mr. 
Ormsby. 

I strolled back in the direction of the bridge and 
turned into the telegraph-office to send a business 
cablegram. The moment I entered the building I 
found myself face to face with Mr. Sale, one of the 
three young men who had arranged with the purser 
to allow them to change their route. 

“ I'm so glad that I met you: I’ve been looking 
for you all the morning,’ ’ said he. 

I explained that I had come ashore by the first 
launch. 

4 ‘ I wanted to see you badly, ’ ’ he continued. ‘ ‘ The 
fact is that — by the way, will you come and have lunch 
with me at the hotel at Hastings? I believe it’s a 
first-class place, and I’ll see that we get the best that 
they have.” 

I endeavored to do justice to the regret that I felt 
at not being able to accept his kind invitation. I 
wondered what part did this young man intend me to 
play in his arrangements for the afternoon. I really 
felt quite embarrassed at the numerical strength of 
the people who had allotted to me the role of a Provi- 
dence — a sort of pewter Providence — a useful thing 
for every-day wear, not particularly bright, not easily 
dinged, or if dinged, what did it matter ? 

“I’m sorry you can’t come,” said this Mr. Sale. 
“ The fact is — anything like -the cheek of that fellow 
Wingfield I never came across. The man who, be- 
cause he happens to have sprained his ankle or some- 
9 125 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


thing in the war, assumes that every woman can not 
but look on him as a hero — a regular hero, mind, a 
second Baden-Powell — how he managed to get her to 
promise to lunch with him, I don’t know. I had a 
nasty jar when I heard it. Of course the poor girl 
is not to blame — no, no; I wouldn’t go so far as to 
blame her.” 

“ That’s your generosity,” said I. 

‘ ‘ No, no : all I ask for is fair play and — well, it 
occurred to me when I heard it that it would be a 
good joke if you were to lunch with me at a table near 
them, and later on you might get Wingfield to talk 
to you, and while you were keeping him by you, I 
might get Miss Hope to stroll round the garden with 
me. I’ve never had my chance yet. The way those 
old fools never let her out of their sight — except just 
when they should have kept all their eyes open — well, 
I know what you think of it. All I ask is fair play. ’ ’ 

I said a few sympathetic words and hurried off 
to write out my cable. 

When so engaged I heard a voice to which I had 
become accustomed, saying in a tone whose airy confi- 
dence compelled mistrust : 

‘ ‘ I give you my word that he was a very ill-used 
man — the bravest soldier in the British army — never 
knew what fear was. I served under him, so I should 
know. ’ 9 

Major Heber was doing his best to convince a tele- 
graph official of the purity of Sir Redvers Buller’s 
cause. 


126 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I thought that the best thing that I could do would 
he to get into a buggy at once. Any further delay 
might only involve me in more humiliating invita- 
tions to lunch. I never before felt that my position 
in life was that of the handy man — the man who is 
certain to accept an invitation to a dinner-party if 
one of the guests is suddenly unable to fulfil his en- 
gagement — a sort of fourteenth man who may be en- 
gaged at the confectioner’s in Paris at a moment’s 
notice in case of thirteen sitting down to table. 

But before I reached the buggy-stand close to the 
bridge I encountered Miss Crofton and her father. 
Miss Crofton was the good-humored young woman 
who was no longer young, but who was certainly con- 
tent to be any age that it might please time to make 
her. 

“ Come and lunch with us at the hotel at Hast- 
ings, ’ ’ said Miss Crofton. ‘ ‘ I have brought my bath- 
ing things ashore. I am told that there is a lovely 
beach.” 

“ Do lunch with us,” said her father. “ We may 
be able to get something satisfactory at last.” 

I did not cry “ Another! ” the fact being that 
I recognized the unique character of this invitation 
— the only one offered to me on my own merits — 
the only one impelled by a spirit of hospitality. 

“ Alas! ” I said; “ I have already been coerced 
by the kindness of Mr. Ormsby into a promise to lunch 
with him. I wish that I was going with you.” 

“ Well, you can at least come with us,” said Miss 

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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Crofton. “We have chartered a tame landau — I 
suppose this is the one — ” a landau crawled by 
making an amount of obstruction quite out of all pro- 
portion to the spirit of the horse in the shafts. 

I got into the vehicle and we drove round the cor- 
ner to the post-office. When passing a coiffeur’s — 
perhaps I should say the coiffeur’s, for there seemed 
to be only one white man’s hair-cutter in the place — 
I saw three of the Avon’s passengers seated on the 
balcony waiting their “ turn.” Young Gilbertson of 
the fur coat was one of them. He sprang up and 
leaned over the rail of the balcony waving his arm to 
attract my attention. Our driver slackened his pace, 
and a team of mules nearly ran into us. 

4 ‘ I ’ve been looking for you everywhere : will you 
lunch with me at Hastings? ” yelled the young man. 

I am afraid that he thought that he had made an 
extremely good joke ; but even at the risk of conveying 
such an impression to him I could not refrain from 
laughing loud and long, before I shouted back my re- 
gret at being already engaged. I do not think that he 
was convinced of my sincerity; but he appeared to 
be quite satisfied that he had made a joke of the first 
water, and what was stranger still, so did the two 
others who were beside him on the balcony. They 
laughed even more heartily than he did. 

We had a delightful drive. It gave us an oppor- 
tunity of seeing how large was the town, and how spa- 
cious were some of its buildings. No one coming for 
the first time to the West Indies can fail to be struck 
128 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


with the spaciousness of everything, except, perhaps, 
the streets. In some of the towns there are warehouses 
and stores and churches that would be creditable to 
any city in the world, where prosperity in business 
goes hand in hand with religious enterprise. 

One quickly perceives that all of these buildings 
were originally erected when the trade and prospects 
of the islands were very different from what they are 
to-day. To be a West Indian a hundred and fifty 
years ago was to have a better chance of getting within 
the sphere of the dreams of avarice than being a nabob 
at the time when Clive was astonished at his own mod- 
eration. It is only when one sees these spacious build- 
ings that one becomes aware in some measure of what 
it meant to be “ in sugar ” at a time when people no 
more associated gout with sugar than they did gout 
with port wine, but took plenty of both, leaving their 
children a pretty fair amount of cash to spend on 
specialists. Trade must have been immense to have 
required such warehouses ; but as regards the churches 
I am not quite certain that it would be quite fair to 
the old colonists to judge of their religious necessities 
on the same analogy. 

On the outskirts of the town we came into the 
negro quarter. Here were wooden structures of the 
“ shanty ” style of architecture by the score! — lines 
and lines of houses all pure “ shanty ” or Ashanti, 
and at every door a negress with a flaming turban and 
half a dozen children tumbling and rolling and swarm- 
ing in the sunshine, very economically draped. To 
129 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


those who were best capable of judging on the subject, 
they all seemed to stand in need of the most strident 
rebuke, and I think that nearly all of them received it. 
It was very strident, but as they invariably answered 
back, perhaps they did not feel so mortified as a 
stranger might imagine they should have done. 

Somehow, although it was years since I had lived 
in the midst of a black population, the specimens with 
which I felt myself now surrounded did not seem 
strange to me. I seemed quite at home among them. 
I made a remark to this effect to Miss Crofton, and she 
laughed, saying : 

‘ ‘ Why, so do I. You see I have a fad for collecting 
old carved oak.” 

I was not sorry when a turn in the road brought us 
clear of the native quarter. The truth is that children 
as well as adults of the negro race appeal rather too 
forcibly to another sense than that of sight. I used to 
think that a Zulu, a Malay, and a Boer sitting together 
constituted a bouquet d’Afrique of the strongest possi- 
ble pungency, but it was as nothing compared to the 
nosegays of these little wayside flowers that just missed 
being run over by every vehicle that passed. 

But now we were in a broad and well-kept road, 
bordered by villas, each with a large garden affording 
us glimpses of some magnificent tropical growths. The 
gardens certainly require to be large to accommodate 
such profusion. Here were cacti, some of them quite 
thirty feet in height, and hundreds of aloes; but 
what gave the effect of a perfect blaze of color was 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

the crotons. Looking over the vast profusion of these 
we felt that we were gazing into the very heart of the 
tropics. I expected to see much more of the hibiscus 
than was here, but all we saw were magnificent speci- 
mens. Miss Crofton recognized the lignum vitce here 
and there, its magnificent blue blossoms mingling with 
those of the frangipani, only the latter were red and 
white. Hundreds of other flowering shrubs were on 
both sides of the road and, of course, cabbage-palms 
and coco-palms by the thousand. Wherever there 
was a space among the flowers or the shrubs into which 
it could thrust itself, a palm of some sort had taken 
root. We seemed to be driving through an endless 
Kew palm-house, but, as usual, most of these trees were 
denuded and shabby — they wanted more attention to 
be given to them. I dare say that from five hundred to 
six hundred gardeners who understood their business 
as well as those do at Kew would, by working ten hours 
a day and a liberal use of the hose — a mile or so of 
hose — overcome the shabbiness of the palms. 

Another turn and a short climb brought us out 
upon the Savannah. The name has a certain flavor of 
romance about # it. In all the old pirate-stories the 
Savannah plays an important part. But what is it in 
reality? Well, if Clapham Common were in a West 
Indian island it would be called a Savannah. On this 
island it is a fine space of tawny grass, irregularly sur- 
rounded by barracks. Our driver told us that the 
trees of which we saw traces in all directions had at 
one time so completely surrounded the Savannah as to 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

make a shady walk ; they had, however, all fallen vic- 
tims to the terrific hurricane of September, 1898. 
From the Savannah we got upon the tram-car road, 
with villas of the best class we had yet seen, their 
gardens sloping down to one of the finest beaches pos- 
sible to imagine. 

About a quarter of a mile from the terminus of 
the tram-cars stands the hotel which, so far as I could 
gather, was the objective of nearly all our fellow 
passengers, and where I had a chance offered to me of 
eating five different lunches. It looked quite equal to 
all the demands that might be put upon it by even the 
most voracious of Royal Mail passengers. 

Its walls had not the half-caste appearance of so 
many of the lath-and-plaster buildings of Bridgetown ; 
it looked genuine, inspiring faith in the splendid pos- 
sibilities of its lunches. 

On the spacious verandas there was such a muster 
of Avon passengers as prevented our feeling lonely. 
As I paused at the entrance to have a few words with 
a little monkey on its own door-step, I heard the click 
of a Kodak and later on I found that I had been snap- 
shotted by my own camera, which I had sent up to the 
hotel. Happily there was a background of the bam- 
boo plantation to give the picture some value. 

On the veranda were all the faces that I knew. It 
seemed ages since I had seen them ; and I had certainly 
never seen them so wreathed in smiles. They were the 
faces of released prisoners — all except Mr. Aytoun. 
Whatever his feelings were, Mr. Aytoun ’s face never 
132 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


betrayed him. He had discovered a new cocktail made 
with Old Highland Malt. It was eminently satisfac- 
tory, he said ; and it added immeasurably to one ’s ca- 
pacity to enjoy the luxuriant vegetation of the tropical 
island. He asked me what was my private opinion of 
the poet Burns. 

Major Wingfield was on the veranda — he was lean- 
ing over the rail with Miss Hope by his side. He was 
pointing out to her a humming-bird which was hover- 
ing about the white blossoms of a flowering shrub 
growing some twenty or thirty feet high — Cordelia, 
some one said its name was. In order to point out 
the bird to her properly he had to lay his hand upon 
her arm. Every one knows the aid to sight that is 
afforded by the pressure of a friendly hand. Having 
brought such pressure to bear upon her, she at last saw 
the charming thing. We all saw dozens of them dart- 
ing with the quick movement of dragon-flies, their 
wings quivering so rapidly that they seemed to be 
motionless, about the other flowering shrubs ; but one 
only seemed to keep the attention of Wingfield and the 
sweet girl by his side. Their heads were very close 
together now, and I thought it likely that he was dis- 
covering a resemblance between the blue of the hum- 
ming-bird and the color of her eyes. At any rate he 
was in the best possible position for making a com- 
parison between the two. 

Then it was that Mr. Sowerby marched Mr. and 
Mrs. Krux across the veranda to see the humming- 
bird. He insisted in their taking an interest in the 
133 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

ornithology of the island. But Major Wingfield had 
brought his knowledge of strategy to bear upon the 
situation of the moment. He had, I saw with great, 
interest, placed the girl at the extreme end of the 
veranda, with a small table behind her. It was thus 
impossible for an attacking force to get beside her by 
a flank movement. Mr. Sowerby was no tactician. It 
never occurred to him to do more than run Mrs. Krux 
by the side of Major Wingfield. But Major Wing- 
field did not mind this at all. He talked very agree- 
ably to Mrs. Krux, doubtless upon the habits of the 
humming-bird, but he never neglected the younger 
lady on his other side. And this younger lady never 
allowed her shapely little head to be turned by all the 
ornithological lore with which Major Wingfield had 
filled it. But she was clearly desirous of acquiring all 
the knowledge possible to be gained on the subject, for 
she turned to Mr. Sowerby, who was behind the table 
which was behind her, and with her face overflowing 
with interest, entreated of him to go round to the other 
side of the veranda in order to find out if any hum- 
ming-birds were there. 

Mr. Sowerby crawled off. 

Just round the corner of the veranda my host w T as 
seated between his daughter and Mr. Jaffray. The 
strategical value of such a position — between the two 
people whom he wanted to bring together — was not 
immediately apparent. The young man was turning 
over the pages of a sort of guide-book. The young 
woman was gazing with uninterested eyes over the 
134 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


dazzling white roads to the windmill, which seemed to 
stretch a succession of friendly arms out to the wan- 
derers waving their thoughts back to home. 

Mr. Ormsby jumped up when I appeared. So did 
Mr. Jaffray, but the latter only for a moment. He 
quickly seated himself again, and of course he was now 
compelled to go an inch or two nearer to the girl. He 
ventured to point out the exquisite glimpse of the sea 
which was obtainable beyond the white beach. She 
asquiesced languidly in whatever opinion he had ex- 
pressed. It did not interest her. This pair clearly 
required some bringing together. 

‘ ‘ It was so good of you to come, ’ ’ said Mr. Ormsby. 
“ I hoped you would see your way to it. I said to 
myself : after being accustomed to so much society in 
the saloon of the steamer he will find it lonely lunching 
by himself. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I had indeed a narrow escape of a lonely lunch, 
Mr. Ormsby,” said I. “ Only for your thoughtful- 
ness ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Don’t say a word about that, please. You see — ” 
his voice fell to a whisper, and he gave the least little 
twitch of an eyelash in the direction of the young peo- 
ple — “ you see, they have come together already. 
Don ’t you think that we might take a stroll round to 
the veranda? What’s that I hear about humming- 
birds ? I’m sure I should think the money well spent 
on the whole voyage if only I could see a humming- 
bird in its native state. ” 

He had raised his voice in saying this so that his 

135 


shipmates in sunshine 

daughter might hear every word and understand that 
only under extreme pressure was he leaving her. He 
put his arm on mine and gave the idea of dragging me 
round the veranda. I began to think that this lunch 
would be a hard-earned meal. 

My dear sir, ’ ’ he whispered, when we had turned 
the corner of the house, 1 1 don ’t you think me such an 
ass as to want to see a humming-bird and that. You 
perceive, don’t you, that I only made this an excuse 
to leave the young people together? Myra hasn’t 
quite thawed yet, but I don’t think that she really ob- 
jects to him so strongly as she did. I have great hopes. 
Oh ! are those the humming-birds ? I smell fish cook- 
ing ! I hear that they are great on flying-fish here. 

I had no idea that they ate them. I suppose that the 
flavor must be a cross between a pheasant and a fish. 
Will you take a sherry and bitters before lunch ? I ’m 
going to have one myself.” 

We turned in by a door, half-way along the 
veranda, and found ourselves in a delightfully cool 
room— a sort of lounge where people might have tea or 
cocktails at one of the small tables. But the only occu- 
pants of the place at that moment were our officer of 
Dragoons and his mother. They were playing Pa- 
tience with dwarf cards while waiting for lunch. 

There was a sort of bar off this room, and from it 
came the perfume of cigarettes and the clink of glasses. 
While we were in the act of passing through for our 
sherry and bitters, we heard a voice in the distance. 
This was what it said : 


136 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

‘ ‘ My dear sir, you have been reading some of those 
confounded papers. They have put you astray. Take 
my word for it, Buller is a very ill-used man. He 
made an ass of himself to be sure, but I served under 
him. I should know. ’ ’ 

1 1 I thought that the Hebers were lunching with the 
General, ’ ’ said I, to Mr. Ormsby. 

1 1 Oh, no, ’ ’ said he, ‘ ‘ not both of them — only Mrs. 
Heber. ’ ’ 

11 That’s rather a pity,” said I ; “ perhaps the Gen- 
eral may never know how ill-used a man Buller was.” 

When, after a decent interval, we returned to Miss 
Ormsby, we found her sitting with Miss Crofton, 
while Mr. Jaffray was talking to Miss Crofton ’s father. 

My companion seemed disappointed. 

1 1 Why couldn ’t these people have stayed away for 
a while? ” he said. “ I’m sure that Myra was begin- 
ning to thaw. Do you think that we might send the 
pair of them away to look for a humming-bird ? ’ 9 

Before I had fully considered the question the 
luncheon-bell rang. 

In justice to myself I must say that I did my best 
for my host. I did my best to earn my lunch. He 
seemed to think that we should have altogether ignored 
the presence of his daughter and his other guest, but 
this I found impracticable. Even to oblige the gentle- 
man whose thoughtful hospitality had saved me from 
eating a lonely lunch, I could not but reply to any 
question that his daughter asked me, and she asked me 
a good many. Mr. Jaffray, however, got plenty of 
137 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

chances, and I thought that he showed a disposition to 
make use of some of them. He seemed to pull him- 
self together, so to speak, and I fancied that he was 
even on the verge of becoming interesting to the young 
woman. He was, undoubtedly, a very nice and an ex- 
tremely well-informed man, without the slightest sus- 
picion of the cock-sure manner of the junior counsel ; 
but I had no hope for the success of Mr. Ormsby ’s ex- 
periment, though I did not consider myself bound to 
express this opinion to him when we were smoking our 
cigars together after lunch. 

The only excitement of the day was caused by Mr. 
Burling ’s announcement that, driving round the coast, 
he had suddenly come upon an enormous school of 
land-tortoises, making their way to the hills as fast as 
a man could walk. He explained to us, while com- 
municating several most interesting and original facts 
of natural history, that the popular notion that a tor- 
toise was extremely leisurely in its movements had 
long ago been exploded. He himself had once kept a 
pet tortoise, and when they went out for walks to- 
gether it was as much as he could do to keep up with it. 

Some of the less receptive of the men who were 
smoking on the veranda looked at one another as if 
they felt that this tortoise was not the only individual 
that it was difficult to keep up with. 

After drinking our coffee some of our party strolled 
off to the beach. For my own part I felt as if I could 
never get too much of that beach. Standing upon it 
watching the rise and long roll of every wave — those 
138 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

waves were surely the hexameters of the living poem 
of the sea— hearing the whisper and sigh and the thun- 
derous laughter of waters, I seemed to recall all the 
books which had made an impression on me from Rob- 
inson Crusoe to Treasure Island. What thin inverte- 
brate things are all novels compared to those stories 
of sea adventure with the swish of the ship’s cutlasses 
on every page, the singing of pistol-bullets, the pun- 
gent smell of powder, and all heard or seen against 
such a background of green sea ! 

Here on the beach at Barbados, with a row of lan- 
guidly waving palms behind me and the long wave 
tumbling at my feet and then uncurling itself like a 
mighty scroll in the far distance of the shallowing 
shore, I felt that I could understand something of the 
impulses that stirred all the great hearts of men whose 
names ring dirough the history of the little island of 
Barbados, and the other specks on the map of the 
Spanish Main. Pirates and robbers, most of them, 
from Columbus to Drake and Raleigh, and nearly all 
cruel men of evil passions. But such men! Makers 
of history, unconscious wielders of those forces by 
which worlds are made ! These fellows were not 
merely the wielders of the forces of Nature ; they were 
the actual forces of Nature itself. That is where they 
were great, and that is how it comes that even those of 
us who go delicately, feel an overpowering admiration 
for them. 

It was the sound of this sea that was in their ears ; 
it was this line of palms that was before their eyes. 

139 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Nothing about them could have been squalid. We do 
not stop to reflect that they must have fed like beasts, 
that they must have lived like beasts — that, in fact, 
they were beasts without the cleanness of the beast ; all 
the thoughts about them that come to us have a clean 
wind blowing through them, and are mingled with the 
scent of the green sea. 

And behind us is that ridge of palm-trees. 


140 


CHAPTER XI 


The steamer in which we were to complete the 
cruise round the islands was of barely half the tonnage 
of the Avon. Its alias was the Amazon — I regret that 
I am unable to say what its original name was. The 
ship was quite enough for the work of conveying 
leisurely tourists through this quiet archipelago. We 
were to go northward as far as the Danish island of St. 
Thomas ; after remaining there for some days our pro- 
gram was to pay a return visit to all the islands, and 
then go southward to Trinidad and La Guayra, the 
port of Caracas in Venezuela. Thence we were to 
come for the third time to Barbados, and transship for 
any other port mentioned in the program. I may here 
mention that this program was carried out with the 
most admirable punctuality. No steamer was an hour 
Jate in arriving at any island, and the worst contre- 
temps that we met was the failure of green limes in the 
pantry for three days. 

This is a rather disappointing statement to have to 
make. Most people refuse to read an account of any- 
thing except a contretemps. And certainly a contre- 
temps is something on which one looks back with pleas- 
ure ; but while it is in operation one is inclined to pre- 
fer something less emotional. 

10 141 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


We missed a good many of our old friends from the 
saloon of the new steamer. Some had been passengers 
only as far as Barbados; others were going on in 
the Avon to South America, or transshipping for 
Jamaica. But we had picked up several who were go- 
ing northward with us. Among them was an arch- 
bishop (colonial), but we were to be deprived of his 
society at the first port, St. Lucia, so that we should 
barely have time for an archiepiscopal benediction; 
but we hoped to find consolation for this in the reflec- 
tion that a gentleman had come aboard with a box of 
dissolving- views to illustrate a lecture, which he pro- 
posed giving at some of the islands, on the Temple of 
Solomon. I understood him to attribute the present 
unsatisfactory state of the West Indies to the igno- 
rance in which the inhabitants were living on this sub- 
ject. How was it possible for a community to main- 
tain its place in any scheme of civilization so long as it 
showed an indifference to the proportions and sym- 
bolic features of the Temple of Solomon ? In the true 
spirit of missionary enterprise he had set out to give 
the West Indies a chance, so to speak. If, after his 
visit to the islands with his magic lantern and box of 
dissolving- views, the people chose to remain in igno- 
rance, that was their own lookout. He, at any rate, 
would be free from all blame. 

His name was Fraser, and he was a nice, civil- 
spoken gentleman of sixty. He offered to give me a 
dress rehearsal of his spirited entertainment, so that I 
might be able to judge for myself whether or not the 
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people of Bridgetown were justified in the arctic cold- 
ness with which they had received him on their plat- 
forms. But, while appreciating his courtesy to the 
full, I did not think it advisable to put him to so much 
trouble for the sake of achieving so insignificant a re- 
sult. I acted in the spirit of the schoolboy who, when 
his master offered to prove to him that the square de- 
scribed upon the hypotenuse of a rectangular parallel- 
ogram is equal to the double rectangle described upon 
the other two sides, begged him to spare himself the 
trouble as he admitted the statement. I assured Mr. 
Fraser that I had never had any doubts in my mind as 
to the callousness of the Barbadians, and even though 
he told me that the rehearsal which he proposed would 
not occupy more than three hours, I maintained my 
attitude with firmness. 

I noticed him putting himself on a friendly footing 
with every one on the deck. 

He put himself on a very friendly footing with Mr. 
Burling. Overhearing Mr. Aytoun remark to Jaf- 
fray: 

“ That was a pretty fair story that de Rougemont 
told us to-day about the land-crabs,” he said: 

“ I beg your pardon. Did I understand you to 
say that de Rougemont was aboard the steamer? ” 

“ Of course, he came out with us,” replied the 
Scot. “ There he is leaning over the rail.” 

Before Aytoun remembered that Mr. Fraser had 
not been among the old passengers and that, conse- 
quently, he could not have known what was the pet 
143 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

name aboard the Avon for Mr. Burling, the genial Mr. 
Fraser went across the deck and, taking off his hat in 
the most courteous manner possible, said : 

‘ ‘ Mr. de Rougemont, it gives me great pleasure to 
make your acquaintance, sir. I hope we may have 
many a chat together. You know who I am.” 

“ I don’t know who you are, but I know what you 
are,” said Mr. Burling, turning on his heel and walk- 
ing aft, leaving the kindly spoken gentleman aghast. 

I suppose that kindly spoken people in their efforts 
to be courteous now and again get nasty falls. 

But before the steamer was under weigh Mr. Fraser 
had recovered from the effect of this unaccountable 
rebuff, for I heard him explain in the most lucid way 
to the archbishop his theory regarding the death of 
Mary Queen of Scots. He held that Mary Queen of 
Scots had died from blood-poisoning. 

I venture to think that his Grace was glad rather 
than sorry that the steamer was to arrive at St. Lucia 
early in the morning. I overheard Major Heber talk- 
ing to him a few minutes before, and, whatever the 
topic may have been upon which they were conversing, 
it necessitated the assertion that some one — I quite 
failed to catch the name — was a very ill-used man. 

Major Heber was in an extremely assertive mood 
this evening. We should never have guessed how it 
had originated had he not confessed to us in a whisper 
of great confidence, that he had just had his fourteenth 
cocktail and that he was afraid something had been 
wrong with the last. 


144 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I thought for one that his fears in this matter were 
not wholly groundless. 

A few months before, I saw when in Ireland, a let- 
ter which a minor official had written to the head of 
the department, endeavoring to exculpate himself 
from a charge of intoxication. 

The truth is, sir, ” the letter ran, “ that I was so 
hard worked all the day I had not a moment left to eat 
anything. Unfortunately, in the evening I had a sin- 
gle glass of whisky, and it leaned up against me.” 

I fear that the fourteenth cocktail had ‘ ‘ leaned up 
against ” Major Heber. 

He kept out of the way of his wife. 

Mrs. Heber had “ taken up ” Miss Croysdale, the 
young woman who had brought her maid with her and 
had taken an entire cabin for herself and her attend- 
ant and a heavy load of trunks. She was a good- 
looking girl, somewhat reserved ; and of course it was 
understood that she was extremely well off to travel in 
the way she had adopted. She did not seem to have 
told any one aboard much about herself and her 
family, but Mrs. Heber ’s pleasant adroitness was equal 
to the task of discovering that Miss Croysdale was an 
orphan, and that she had neither brothers nor sisters 
— only trunks; a fact which Mrs. Heber assured me 
was a very pleasant one to reflect upon when there was 
any question of division of property. It was the same 
lady who alluded every now and again to Miss Croys- 
dale as “ the heiress/ * It was probably the reitera- 
tion of this word — one of the pleasantest in the lan- 
145 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


guage — that caused Mrs. Heber to “ take up ” Miss 
Croysdale. 

The incident concerned us, owing to Mrs. Heber ’s 
having brought her to our table on the Amazon. One 
seat still remained vacant, and it was taken by a man 
named Conrad. A young fellow of excellent manners 
and with the reputation of having one year been 
placed among the first-class cricket averages. The 
business which had brought him out to the West Indies 
was to see a cricket-match at Trinidad. He had trans- 
acted his arduous task with great credit to himself, 
being probably the most intelligent spectator on the 
field, but having still some time to spare before the 
opening of the home season, he had made up his mind 
to see all the islands. That was how he came to join 
us at Barbados. It was Mrs. Heber who arranged 
with the steward that Mr. Conrad was to sit beside 
Miss Croysdale, which suggested that Mr. Conrad had 
also been ‘ ‘ taken up ’ ’ by Mrs. Heber. 

(His position by the side of Miss Croysdale placed 
him exactly opposite to Mrs. Heber.) 

Among the tourists who would never have been 
missed had they disembarked at our first port, was a 
certain Mrs. Baker and her daughter, who gave them- 
selves more airs than the largest-sized, twin-screw, elec- 
tric ventilator could supply when working at the high- 
est pressure. But as it turned out, they had every 
reason to assume this superiority to the rest of us, for 
they were in the brewery business, and Miss Baker had 
once appeared by accident in the same picture as a 
146 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


minor Royalty, in a cinematograph. She had been 
well to the front in the crowd, and her face had just 
managed to be clear of the policeman ’s arm, but it was 
clear of it, and its blurred smile had been recognized 
by all her relations who had attended the music-hall 
while that cinematograph was doing its turn for one 
week. 

Mrs. Baker made me acquainted with these impor- 
tant biographical data in an outburst of patronizing 
confidence one day, and had afterward ignored my 
existence, which should make me say kind things about 
her now, even though I had no other reason for do- 
ing so. 

She always alluded to her daughter as Miss Baker ; 
probably for the same reason that was given by Adam 
for calling the fox a fox — because it was a fox. She 
called Miss Baker Miss Baker because she was Miss 
Baker. 

Only it sounded queer coming from her mother. 

4 ‘ Miss Baker is so young ! ’ ’ she told me on this 
red-letter day of my life when I had a conversation 
with her. ‘ ‘ She is so young and so unconscious of her 
own beauty! ” 

I did not venture to suggest that she shared this un- 
consciousness with all her fellow passengers. 

Miss Baker dressed so extravagantly as to be really 
discourteous to the rest of her sex aboard. She 
seemed to be making the cruise for the sake of display- 
ing her frocks. She not only displayed them but her 
own lack of taste as well, Mrs. Ileber assured me, but 
147 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


I did not mind her criticism ; I judged for myself and 
left off with a sincere respect for Mrs. Baker’s extrava- 
gance. I thought it quite delightful to be brought 
face to face with an Ascot toilet in mid- Atlantic in the 
morning, and with a Carlton creation at dinner. 

The only person aboard with whom Mrs. Baker 
and Miss Baker became really intimate was a good- 
looking young fellow named Carter, He was the 
politest person I ever met. One might have fancied 
that he hoped to gain something by his politeness be- 
yond the consciousness of doing the right thing. At 
any rate, like most polite people, he had few friends, 
but among the few were Mrs. Baker and Miss Baker. 
This fact somehow prejudiced people against him, and 
they said that he was going to Trinidad to become 
assistant-secretary to the Governor-General. He did 
not confide in any one what post, if any, he was going 
out to fill in the entourage of his Excellency. 

But he undoubtedly was a persona grata with Mrs. 
Baker and Miss Baker. The former assured me that 
he was a most superior gentleman, and when I pro- 
tested that she was rather hard on him, she went on to 
say that he was very different from the majority of the 
passengers. For her part, she said, she wondered 
where some of the others had come from, and also how 
any one could call Miss Hope good-looking ; for she 
had worn the same dress every day since leaving 
Southampton. 

Mr. Carter bowed his way through the Tropic of 
Cancer and when the evenings became warm he sat be- 
148 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

side Miss Baker, who wore a pale pink opera-cloak, on 
his deck-chair, at a disrespectful distance from the 
chairs of the other people ; and sometimes Mrs. Baker 
would find that the night air was too chill for 
her or too warm or something, and go down to 
her cabin telling Miss Baker not to stay on deck 
too long. 

Miss Baker was friendly, but she was not indis- 
creet. She allowed Mr. Carter to bow her down the 
companion at four bells — when few of the passengers 
had retired. They all admitted that it was difficult to 
say at a moment’s notice which of her three opera- 
wraps was the prettiest. 

Some people aboard rather hoped that the Bakers 
would transship for Trinidad with Mr. Carter at Bar- 
bados; but though he was compelled to do so, they 
came on with us. Mrs. Heber’s theory was that they 
had heard that the Archbishop was to be aboard the 
Amazon, and they felt that it was necessary for some 
one who had been cinematographed with the Prince, to 
do the honors of the saloon for his Grace. However 
this may be, I saw Mrs. Baker talking to his Grace for 
close upon four minutes in the companion, and I also 
noticed his Grace circumspectly avoiding her for the 
rest of the evening. 

I ventured to say something about Mr. Jaffray to 
Miss Ormsby that evening while the steamer was still 
in sight of Barbados, mentioning that I thought he 
was a very well-informed man, and certain to make 
a name for himself at the Bar, he possessed so few 
149 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


characteristics of the ordinary barrister, especially as 
regarded the amount of his information. For a single 
second her face brightened, so that I fancied she might 
actually be interested in the man; but then she gave 
a little imitation of an Englishwoman ’s copy of a 
Frenchwoman’s shrug, and said: 

‘ ‘ I suppose he is well-informed : he talks to father 
on the municipalization of the Midlands, and to you 
on — is it the beauties of Brehon law ¥ Ah, yes ; I dare 
say he is well-informed. Poor papa! ” 

“ Why ‘ poor papa ’? ” said I. “ I don’t see the 
sequence — the connection between Jaff ray’s being 
well-informed and the poverty of your father.” 

She smiled, and her smile emphasized the enigmat- 
ical note of her phrases. 

“ Why ‘ poor papa ’? ” I inquired again. 

He thinks that you are his advocate and you be- 
gin to tell me that Mr. Jaff ray is well-informed,” she 
replied. 

“ There is something in that,” said I thoughtfully 
— for it so happened that I was thinking at that mo- 
ment ; and what I thought was what I went on to say 
to her — ‘ ‘ Perhaps I should have said that Mr. Jaffray 
may not be so free as he seems from those sentiments 
which make a man a rascal. ’ ’ 

She turned upon me a quick glance. 

“ Whatever he may be he is certainly not a ras- 
cal,” she said in a voice that corresponded with her 
glance. 


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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ I am as certain of that as I am of my own exist- 
ence/ y said I. “ I only hoped to interest you in Mr. 
J affray. ’ ’ 

“ By suggesting that he might be a rascal ? ” 

“ How could I make a better attempt? If a girl 
is not interested in a rascal whom is she interested in ? 
I did my best for Mr. Jaffray, though I did not hint at 
his rascality. And I do believe that I brought you to 
the verge of being interested in him.” 

“ Oh, for that matter,” said she. “ For that 
matter ’ ’ 

“ You suggest that all men are interesting? You 
are wrong : some are novelists . 1 ’ 

She smiled more enigmatically than ever. Now 
that I come to think of it, far removed from the stimu- 
lating influence of the sea, the air of the tropics, and 
the cuisine of the Amazon, I am not so sure that there 
was anything whatever enigmatical either in this smile 
or in the one that preceded it. It must have been 
their frankness which puzzled me at the moment. The 
Sphinx was feminine, to be sure, but it would be going 
too far to say that everything feminine is a Sphinx. 
Frankness, however, is usually resorted to by one who 
wishes to conceal his (or her) real opinion. 

At any rate, she smiled, and there was a long 
silence before she answered me. She looked across the 
water — blue as indigo, with a streak of pink reflected 
from the sky in the west where the sun had gone 
down; a flying-fish or two slipped slantwise into the 
151 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


air and went skimming and curving among the waves 
of our wake. She looked at them till they dropped 
into the water. Then she turned to me, saying : 

‘ ‘ Flying-fish are the most interesting things that I 
have seen since I left England.” 

“ They are eminently palatable,” said I, “ when 
cooked as they were at lunch to-day. As a comestible 
they have their use, but perhaps they are most useful 
when employed to turn one’s attention away from an 
inconvenient topic. ’ ’ 

“ That was not in my mind,” she said. “You 
were talking about things that were interesting — and 
novelists. Well, I pointed out the flying-fish to you, 
and you admitted that they were interesting. What I 
really thought was this : Is the flying-fish anything the 
better off for being able to fly ? ” 

‘ ‘ Mr. Burling will tell you that it flies in order to 
escape the shark — or is it the sword-fish — that wants 
to eat it. ’ ’ 

“ Yes; but it flies into the boat of the Barbadian 
and it is cooked and eaten all the same. ’ ’ 

“ True, quite true; and the moral of the fable of 
the flying-fish is, that when a young woman loves a 
young man on the land, she does not see how she would 
better herself by dropping him and taking to another 
aboard a steamer. ’ ’ 

She gave a little flush, saying in a low voice : 

“ Your moral is quite correct, only I think you had 
better put a more appropriate fable to it. ’ ’ 

“If the moral is sound,” said I, “ it scarcely mat- 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

ters about the fable. Did I ever tell you the story of 
the Irish priest who got slightly mixed over the ac- 
count of the miraculous feeding of the multitude? ” 
She confessed that she had never heard it. 

“ Well/’ said I, “ Father Tim was preaching from 
the text of the loaves and fishes, but getting slightly 
mixed, he said that five men and two women were fed 
with five thousand loaves and the same number of 
fishes, and he was quite surprised that his congregation 
did not seem to perceive the miraculous element in the 
transaction. The next day, however, some one ven- 
tured to point out to him the mistake that he had made. 
In order to repair it he preached the next Sunday on 
the same subject, but this time he took care to state the 
case correctly. ‘ Five loaves and two small fishes to 
feed five thousand hungry people,’ said he, ‘ think of 
that. What would any of us do if we were called 
upon to feed five thousand people and had only five 
loaves and two fishes to do it with ? I ask ye again, 
What would any of us do ? ’ ‘ Give them the leavings 
of last Sunday’s sermon, Father Tim,’ cried some one 
from the body of the chapel. ’ ’ 

She asked me to tell her another story. 


153 


CHAPTER XII 


fore I turned in that night I made up my mind 
that? i - 1 would never again worry this charming girl 
about her love-affair. It was obvious that she took 
only the smallest amount of interest in the well-in- 
formed Mr. Jaffray, and it was extremely unlikely 
that she would ever take any more interest in him 
than she did at that time, even though he should de- 
velop a readiness of narrative equal to that with which 
Mr. Burling was gifted. I could not doubt that her 
heart was fixed upon the man whom she had met in 
London, and I felt that she was right and that he 
was an exceedingly fortunate man. She had prob- 
ably posted a long letter to him at Barbados, and she 
would most likely begin another to him the next day 
— if indeed she had not begun one already. (I hoped 
that she would mention my name to him with some 
measure of kindliness.) 

When I awoke in the morning I found that the 
steamer was gliding past the two imposing mountains 
of the island of St. Lucia known as the Pitons. To 
say that these are sugar-loaf in shape is to state a 
fact; but they are sugar-loaf in shape only because 
the original sugar-loaves were modeled on the shape 
of the Pitons. In the early dawn-light the twin moun- 
154 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSPIINE 


tains, rising sheer from the sea, looked very imposing. 
There was a cotton-wool fluff of mist sailing across 
the summit of the island and it broke on coming in 
contact with the shoulder of one of the hills, but it 
still sailed on, leaving the peak standing like an slet 
in the midst of a sea of foam. The peaks were p ' *ple 
in the dawn, and as we moved past, the cottoi iff 
that floated on high became a swirl of pearly sL. i ohot 
through and through with a lance of sunlight from 
below the horizon. In a second it became tenderly 
opalesque, swimming from peak to peak to be lost in 
the exquisite faint blue of the sky. But as it broke 
up we found that it had never been either cotton- wool 
or silk ; it was a festoon of damask roses hanging be- 
tween the peaks, for when it slipped over the shoulder 
of one of them, the air was filled with rose-petals — 
there they tossed, quivering like feathers, every petal 
delicately pink — pearly pink — quivering, hovering, 
curling, and swimming through the air. 

But after all they were not petals of damask roses : 
they were a shower of shells which the spirits of the 
Pitons had gathered from the ocean depths through 
the night, and were now playfully hurling from the 
peak to meet the rising sun — all soft pink pearly 
shells, light enough to be blown about by every breeze. 

The effect of the purple mountains against the 
faint blue of the sky was inexpressibly lovely, but 
this effect was immeasurably enhanced by the mar- 
velous blue of the water. It was of the purest 
sapphire, and its color seemed to come up from its 
155 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSPIINE 


depths, the surface being transparent. Such purity 
of color I had never seen before — in the mountains, 
the sky, the sea. The colors were the colors of jewels 
— sapphire and amethyst and turquoise, and there 
were pearls being flung from the pink shells that were 
still quivering like flecks of foam in the air. 

Passing the Pitons at sunrise, we crept between 
the low headlands at the entrance to the harbor at 
Castries, and the full beauty of the hill-slope came 
into view. The harbor is certainly the safest in the 
West Indies, and within the past year or two it has 
been greatly improved by the carrying out of certain 
operations against the coral reef which had been pro- 
nounced obstructive if not destructive. The entrance 
is narrow and. the slopes on all sides are sufficiently 
high to afford ships perfect security from every wind 
that blows. The water is deep enough for the largest 
craft afloat. No glimpse that we had of Barbados 
suggested to us with the same force as did the mar- 
velous slope above the town of Castries in St. Lucia, 
the tropical island which was the object of our 
quest. 

The luxuriant vegetation after rioting over the 
slope, came down to the water’s edge. Such glories 
of growth I never saw even in Africa — palms and 
cacti and aloes and plantains, all were here in abun- 
dance. The combinations of green all up the slopes 
on every hand were most refreshing. Here and 
there were dark patches — we could not make out 
the forms of the trees but only got the general effect 
156 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


of the groups — patches of olive, and then came un- 
accountable spaces of emerald — islands of emerald in 
oceans of olive — and then acres of the spring green 
of sugar-cane. Streaks of mangoes and bananas and 
tamarinds gave all the charm of “ detail ” to the 
picture. 

Government House was pointed out to me— a bower 
in the forest, a few hundred feet up the slope. Higher 
still are the Artillery Barracks. A few picturesque 
dwellings of the Madeira quinta pattern are dotted 
about the slope, a roof appearing here and there above 
the vegetation. The other arm of the bay is scarcely 
so imposing. The building operations which were 
going on around the barracks and the old fort will 
probably, when completed, diminish still further the 
picturesque element. 

Only three or four ships were in the harbor — a 
very different state of things from that which pre- 
vailed on the eve of Rodney’s glorious victory over 
de Grasse. It was between the two headlands that 
Rodney collected his fleet, and waited for the French 
frigates to come out from their anchorage at Domin- 
ica. What a bustle there must have been here from 
morning to night. Those splendid models of fighting- 
ships with their yards apeak, all at the same angle, 
with their pennons flying, with their long rows of 
brass gun-muzzles looking through the gun-ports, the 
aspect of a bulldog held in leash about every one of 
them ; and above these heavy- jowled guns looking out 
of their kennels, the high poop with the ornamental 
11 157 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

carving climbing up its side from the deck — a sea- 
horse, or a mermaid perhaps ! 

And in the water there must have been hundreds 
of ships’ boats — galleys and pinnaces, and captains’ 
gigs, and whale-boats, plying to and fro from the 
shore, rowed by seamen with glazed hats behind which 
hung a plaited queue with a ribbon-knot at the end, 
all beautifully greased ; and steered by a chubby mid- 
shipman, wearing a dirk. It may be taken for grant- 
ed that there was no lack of visitors from the shore 
aboard the ships all day ; and every one has heard of 
the beauty of the Creole woman, English as well as 
French. I am sure that they were as greatly inter- 
ested in marine architecture in those days as they are 
now, and I am certain that the traditions of the navy 
for hospitality were as rigidly observed aboard the 
hearts of oak as they are within the plates of chilled 
steel. The white population in the days of Rodney 
must have been largely French, and I fancy that some 
of them — perhaps even the loveliest of the Creole la- 
dies — required a good deal of looking after : a message 
conveyed to Dominica would have spoiled the admiral ’s 
plan. No doubt that vigilance and hospitality went 
hand in hand when Rodney was in command. I can 
picture for myself the dance going on aboard one of the 
ships every night just as the Duchess of Richmond’s 
ball went on, when joy was unconfined, on the eve of 
Waterloo; but we may be perfectly certain that the 
admiral had his reports brought to him from the look- 
out on the headlands, where all telescopes were turned 
158 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

in the direction of Dominica. And then the morning 
came when those of the islanders who were looking 
forward to a day of festivity aboard the flag-ship, 
saw from their windows such a sight as will never be 
seen in the world again — mighty three-deckers with 
all their white canvas spread, sailing out of the har- 
bor to achieve the greatest of England’s naval vic- 
tories. 

But now — well, just now our steamer is being . 
hauled alongside three mountains of coal — that is all 
that we can see — a Pelion and Ossa and Olympus of 
coal, shutting out the pictures of green hills beyond ; 
and yet around these coal-heaps there are palms wav- 
ing languidly in the morning breeze. There it is be- 
fore us, the all-powerful English coal, which sent Rod- 
ney ’s frigates to be broken up and their acres of can- 
vas to the marine store, never again to be hoisted 
between spars of elm for the undoing of an enemy’s 
flotilla. And this is what the passengers are grum- 
bling at, the taking aboard of this coal. It may be 
all-powerful, it certainly is all-grimy. 

And the manner of coaling! Sparsely clad men 
and women rendered by grime a shade blacker than 
nature had made them, streamed forth from the coal- 
yards, each carrying a good-sized basket of the ‘ ‘ best 
Welsh steam ” on his or her head. On they came, in 
single file, not the space of a foot separating any two, 
up the planks, and after unburdening themselves, 
countermarching on a second plank back to the coal- 
yard for a fresh supply. To watch them was to become 
159 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

mesmerized. One felt that one was not looking at 
men and women but at the strange, weird figures of 
a dream — a horrible nightmare of the Inferno — spec- 
ters of the Lost, doomed to an everlasting tramp, 
tramp, tramp, and carrying their own fuel with them 
to replenish the infernal flames. 

When I recovered myself I fled from that night- 
mare down the hand-rail and on to the shore. 

The quay-side was crowded. In addition to a few 
thousands of fervid religionists — plain and colored 
and mezzo-tinted — who had come to welcome the Arch- 
bishop, there were a number of Khaki soldier-men who, 
we could see, were doing their best to look bored by 
the unchastened fervor of the common crowd. The 
unbridled religionism which was manifested by his 
brethren and sisters was not for the soldier-man. He 
knew that every one of those who were receiving the 
benediction of his Grace, had taken all the precautions 
known to the Obi to enable him or her to have a suc- 
cessful day of idleness. Then there were sable police- 
men, clothed in white samite to the spike of their hel- 
mets, taking a considerate view of the weaknesses of 
their weaker brethren and still weaker sisters. It was 
surely weak of the negro sister to show herself as 
strong as her brother in coal-carrying ; and if it came 
to a row — but the policemen would never let it come 
to a row. 

And every one in the crowd was talking on some 
important topic to every one else. The effect was like 
that of a scene in the House of Commons on an Irish 
160 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


night — one of the good old Irish nights. But the 
Archbishop had no trouble in working his way through 
the welcoming crowds. 

No one could be ashore at Castries for long with- 
out becoming aware of the difference between the peo- 
ple here and those of Bridgetown. Castries is dis- 
tinctly French. The women walk in a curious min- 
cing way, and carry their burdens on their heads in 
a coquettish manner; and it is surprising how much 
coquetry there is room for without imperiling the 
safety of the “washing” which they are hearing 
home, or the banana branches which they mean to 
sell. Their clothing too is distinctly of a Parisian 
cut, and it is not intolerably decollete. The coloring 
is as tawdry as one finds in the best Parisian circles, 
but the hues of the kerchiefs in which they envelop 
their heads are truly tropical. Nothing in Nature can 
compete with them ; most women seem to carry a trop- 
ical sunset on their heads; those who are somewhat 
shy make it a rainbow, the most retiring aim at noth- 
ing more striking than a halo of orange. 

One can not but feel how extraordinary it is to find 
the French influence still prevailing in this place al- 
though it has not been in the possession of the French 
for a century. It is indeed remarkable to find in 
every island in this archipelago the early influences 
of its planting still at work. Barbados is essentially 
English— essentially Royalist. One knows perfectly 
well what view will be taken by the people in any 
particular question. In St. Lucia the people are 
161 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


French and speak a cnrions 'patois, a very easy-going 
sort of French, which I do not think would satisfy 
a purist, though I suppose that St. Lucian French 
is not more corrupt than Whitechapel English. 
Every island seems to have its characteristics, which 
nearly always can be traced to their source, just as 
the New England nasal twang is said to be a survival 
of the sing-song unction of the Puritan ancestor, and 
the curious broadening of some of the vowels which 
prevails in some parts of Ireland is said to have been 
caught from the Danes. 

A curious form which the conservatism of these 
islands assumes is found in the currency. In England 
we all know that we seldom meet with coins of an 
older date than the reign of Queen Victoria ; but on 
receiving change for a sovereign at Barbados, I found 
two five-shilling pieces of the date of George III., some 
shillings of George IV., and a half-crown of George 
II. I was constantly struck by the absence of all 
coins bearing the Queen’s head. When I mentioned 
this to a planter, he said that what struck him and 
his friends most strongly was the absence of all coins 
whatsoever. 

It occurred to me that the sanitary officials should 
order a spring cleaning of the coinage. Some of the 
five-shilling pieces which I handled bore the Bertillon 
marks of a former possessor who might have been 
present at the engagement between Rodney and de 
Grasse. 


162 


CHAPTER XIII 


I crossed the little bridge at the quay-side and 
wandered through the crowds into the town of Cas- 
tries, turning aside for a few minutes into a ship- 
builder’s yard — the first that I had visited since I 
had been at Harland and Wolff’s. This one was not 
so large. 

The firm had on the stocks a smack of five tons 
and was laying down the keel of another of six, but 
this pressure of business did not cripple the resources 
of the yard, for two ship ’s punts were being repaired 
and the job was likely to be a long one. I must say 
that the lines of the smacks were vigorous, with a 
generous breadth of beam. No America Cup lifters, 
these, but good stout sea-boats. The ship-building 
industry of Castries is likely to increase its annual 
output, I learned, for owing to the influx of business 
the resources of the firm have been strained to the 
uttermost, and an extra hand has to be employed in 
addition to the man and the boy who are the em- 
ployees at present. It is gratifying to learn that no 
strike has ever taken place in any of the departments 
of this shipyard. This may be because there is no 
proper organization of the labor in this industry in 
the island. I dare say that with the cooperation of a 
163 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

few of those platform loafers known as labor leaders 
in England, even the shipwrights of St. Lucia could 
be screwed up to striking point. 

The stagnation in the streets of the town contrast- 
ed with the business activity of Bridgetown. The 
shops were small and squalid, though here and there 
one comes across a good storehouse of prodigious emp- 
tiness, suggesting a brilliant past. The cathedral— 
every island has its cathedral — which is situated at 
one side of a delightful square of green grass and fine 
old trees one of them a magnificent mango — is a 
grandiose building of somewhat mixed styles of archi- 
tecture. The early planters, contrary to what is gen- 
erally supposed of them, must have been a deeply 
religious set of men ; their church building was on a 
grand scale in every island. Few cities in England 
can boast of churches of the dimensions of those which 
adorn these West Indian villages, and certainly none 
that stand in so great need of the kindly offices of 
incense. 

I strolled into the Castries Cathedral and found 
that mass had already been celebrated under the pat- 
ronage of the Archbishop. The incense had not been 
pungent enough to neutralize the sudorific effect of 
the mass upon the negro congregation. The cathedral 
has no art treasures either in the shape of pictures or 
plate. I fear that if the churches of the Spanish Main 
had been no better equipped in the old days, Sir Fran- 
cis Drake and the other pirates would not have been 
able to pay their way and satisfy the Official Receiver, 
164 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


who in the case of Drake, was Queen Elizabeth. A 
few tawdry and tattered flowers cut out of paper, 
and a Virgin clad in second-hand passementerie rep- 
resented the art jealously guarded by the church. 

It was not, however, until I had left the Cathedral 
and wandered some way along the well-kept street 
beside it, that I became aware of the trend of the 
people’s taste. The houses, all of which were of the 
suburban villa type with pretty gardens, were deco- 
rated in honor of the visit of the Archbishop. They 
were gracefully festooned with roses, and so great a 
profusion of tropical flowers as caused them to seem 
in a blaze of glory. I could not help sighing as I 
recollected the floral decorations which I had wit- 
nessed in an English village a short time before. I 
had thought the harvest festival festoons very rich 
indeed : they were quite eclipsed by those which hung 
before my eyes — they were as moonlight unto sun- 
light — as an old English garden to a tropical jungle. 
But -of course it was only to be expected that the dec- 
orations at home should seem pale compared with 
these. If one should not find a blaze of floral pro- 
fusion in one of these islands where should one look 
for it? 

Unfortunately I had to pass close to the house at 
the corner. One of the festoons had fallen from its 
nail, and then I saw that this blaze of tropical luxuri- 
ance was due to the tint of the paper out of which 
the blossoms were cunningly made. The whole scheme 
of decoration had tinted tissue paper for its founda- 
165 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

tion. Of course there was no reason why art should 
not take the place of nature in such a scheme : it is 
perfectly legitimate to use artificial roses to contribute 
to the eclat of what was probably an artificial wel- 
come to the Archbishop. But I thought that it would 
have been as easy for the people of a tropical island 
to provide real flowers of at least a splendor equal 
to that of the paper blooms. 

I continued my stroll until I came to a genuine 
negro street — a broad, well-kept road with a row of 
huts embowered among mangoes and palms and ba- 
nanas, having for a background one of the most glori- 
ous glens that could be imagined — a glen with all the 
variations of green that I had noticed on the slope in 
the early morning sunlight, but here I could distin- 
guish growth from growth — the uncouth struggle of 
a row of cacti, the delicate transparency of the great 
banana fronds, pure and liquid as the green of chrys- 
oprase — here and there the motionless plume of a 
giant palm, and higher up the slope the dewy dazzle 
of a stretch of sugar-cane. 

And in the foreground there stood a negro mother 
spoiling a rod and certainly not sparing her offspring 
at the same time. It was refreshing to observe the 
complete mastery which the good mother displayed 
over the light bamboo that a luxuriant Nature, antici- 
pating her need, had planted ready for her handling. 
She boxed the compass with that bamboo. Every 
wriggle found her ready. The yelling imp of black- 
ness which she held between her knees dived and 
166 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

plunged and reversed himself between the pivots of 
his mother ’s knee-caps. It made no difference to her : 
bang went the bamboo, and every hit was a boundary. 
I felt that she had completely mastered the bowling, 
as it were. A more genuine and artistic piece of work 
I had never seen. Flogging is practically a lost art 
in England in these days. I trust that I shall not be 
misunderstood when I say that flagellation is more 
honored in the breach than in the observance. But 
I am old enough to remember it in its palmy days, 
and I am thus in a position to affirm that should there 
be any movement set on foot for its resuscitation, there 
is at St. Lucia at least one negress whom I could con- 
scientiously recommend for a professorship when the 
science becomes endowed by Mr. Carnegie. 

I mentioned the feats of the woman with admira- 
tion to a shopkeeper whom I visited in the same street 
—I had seen a peculiar candy in his window which 
I thought might yield its flavor under the pressure 
of a steam-roller or a little nigger’s teeth and he 
laughed. 

“ She should be a pretty fair hand at it,” he said. 
“ Oh, yes, she oughter; fact is, sir, she’s a carpet- 
beater by trade.” 

I got rid of the candy— I heard the crunching of it 
still when the little nigger boys had dwindled to the 
dimension of ants — and strolled along a delightful 
road in another direction. Here were a few well-built 
and well-kept villas; I could see the neat-handed 
Phyllises doing their morning dusting round the win- 
167 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


dows, but they were not so busily occupied as to be 
oblivious of the passing of a stranger. They had as 
many stunsails flying as any hospital nurse, and their 
teeth were like a bold excerpt from a chalk-pit. If 
they had appetites to correspond they must have led 
rather happy lives, provided that they were frugiv- 
orous. 

I found that the road took a turn to the left and 
wound itself through a plantation of bamboos and 
bananas and guavas, crossing a small stream whose 
babbling was refreshing, for I was walking straight 
into the sunshine. After half a mile or so I found 
myself on the slope, making a gradual ascent among 
the lines of leaves — all tropical growths, vast in size 
and innumerable as to multitude. There was a dance 
of butterflies in the air — bewildering beauties of all 
colors — rays of red sunshine seen through the slits 
among the leafage — a hum of gorgeous insects; but 
no sound of footsteps. The road seemed unknown 
to any one in the island, and its seclusion was to me 
entrancing. 

In spite of the warnings which I had received in 
respect of the fer de lance — the most deadly of all 
snakes — of which there are numbers on the island, I 
turned aside from the road and lay down under the 
grateful shade of a banana plant, its huge leaves hang- 
ing over me like an awning of pale green silk. I felt 
the need to drink in all that I could of the scene — 
to get into my life something of the true spirit of the 
Tropic wilderness. 


168 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Alas, it is only given to poets to get behind the 
veil of mystery which is wrapped about these things, 
and only one in a thousand gets there. He it is that 
comes to know their language, and is able to commune 
with them — spirit to spirit — and then to act as their 
interpreter to the world. But who is there that can 
interpret between us and this tropical wilderness? 
We feel around us the tumult of life pulsating in 
everything of this place — we are conscious of the over- 
whelming impulses of production and growth ; but that 
is all of which the ordinary man is aware. The poem 
is sung in his ears in a strange tongue. He is vaguely 
aware of its rhythm — the majestic swing of its lines ; 
but that is all. Its import is as mysterious as ever. 
We lack an interpreter. We see the beautiful face of 
this glorious Nature : but we want to hear the voice 
of its soul speaking to our souls in a language that 
we can understand. 

We men who are a part of this Nature that we see, 
feel ourselves to be apart from Nature. Since first the 
fallacy of that life which is ours to-day became pro- 
mulgated under the name of civilization, our life has 
been made up of perpetual compromises with Nature. 
She may be our mother, but we have become so scan- 
dalized by her skittishness that we decline to live any 
longer in the same house with her. We have made 
her an allowance, and while she lives and riots on the 
estate, regardless of the consequences, we have gone 
into a respectable lodging-house, where we have regu- 
lar meals and hold as little communication with her 
as possible. 


169 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


That is why a man finds it necessary to throw him- 
self on Nature’s lap every now and again, full of 
yearning to hear once again the voice of his discarded 
mother speaking to him in her language, which he 
also discarded — a word or two of comfort that he can 
understand. 

I wonder if I fell asleep. If I did it would be 
just like one of Nature’s pranks. At any rate, I was 
sitting up, having become aware of an unaccustomed 
sound — the sound of feet on the road. In that jungle 
I had the instinct of the jungle whence we sprung. 
A stranger meant an enemy. I lay low and waited. 

Where the banana-leaves rose in their graceful 
curve from their stem, there was a space that per- 
mitted me to see a part of the road — half a dozen 
yards or so about a hundred feet from me on the up- 
ward slope. Into this space sauntered a young man 
and a young woman, and the right hand of the one 
was grasping the left hand of the other, and the hands 
thus joined were swinging to and fro after the fashion 
of the hands of children or lovers, and the man was 
Mr. Jaffray and the woman was Miss Ormsby. 

I never got such a shock in my life. I never before 
felt when quite awake that I was dreaming. The thing 
that I saw seemed to me the most amazing — one of the 
incredibilities of the landscape of a dream. 

And then the arms ceased swinging : the pair had 
stopped on the only space of the road that permitted 
of my seeing them, and they were standing face to 
170 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


face. The man drew her hand to him and held it to 
his chest, while he looked down into her eyes, and he 
looked as if he had fonnd them to be the companion- 
able eyes that I had fancied they were the day I came 
aboard the Avon. Those eyes were looking np to his 
and so they continued for perhaps a minute. Then 
the man bent his head down to hers until their lips 
must have been together. 

At this point my senses — my civilized senses — 
came back to me. I crept farther into my bower of 
bananas, heedless of the fer de lance — on through the 
dense undergrowth, keeping gradually to my right. 
I guessed that this movement would enable me to reach 
the bank of the little stream which I had crossed on 
the road, and I was not mistaken. I had not to go 
more than a quarter of a mile before I got to the 
stream and to Mr. Ormsby. He was sitting on the 
bank with his boots and socks off, paddling in the 
water. 

I fancy that I must have had a guilty look. I 
know that I had a guilty feeling, and I dare say I made 
a movement as if I wished to avoid him, for he hailed 
me. 

“ Hullo! don’t run away. I’m not a savage,” he 
cried. “ Where do you come from? We saw you 
go into the ship-carpenter’s when we were coming 
ashore — Myra and Mr. Jaffray — we thought that you 
were going to spend the day there. We strolled up 
here. She did not know that Mr. Jaffray was coming 
with me. I ’m afraid that she will be wild. They are 
171 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


gone on — I sent them — to find if the road leads to the 
Botanical Gardens or something. They have barely 
been gone five minutes and are sure to be back pres- 
ently. I could not resist the temptation of taking off 
my boots and socks and having a quiet paddle. You 
won’t leave me to bear the brunt of — oh, there they 
are, hailing us from the bridge.” 

I looked to one side. Sure enough, Miss Ormsbv 
and Mr. Jaffray were on the bridge, and the girl was 
waving her white sunshade to her father. 

I had just sufficient presence of mind to take off 
my hat and give an answering salutation — I had noth- 
ing to spare. I was wondering if I had walked 
through this banana jungle in my sleep — if I had 
quite awakened even yet — if I had really seen any- 
thing going on between the openings of my green silk 
awning. 

They made their way to us along the thirty yards 
or so of the river that separated us. They wished me 
good morning, and inquired if I had seen anything 
wonderful in the ship-building yard. 

And both of them looked as innocent as infants ! 
She was as free from embarrassment as a marble 
statue when kissed by a garden Zephyr. He said that 
so far as they could gather the road led right up the 
slope, and that there was no need for a Botanical Gar- 
den — the whole place was one. 

‘ ‘ Bo you think you went far enough ? ’ ’ inquired 
Mr. Ormsby, glancing from Mr. Jaffray to his daugh- 
ter. 


172 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ Oh, yes; I think we did,” she replied; and I 
agreed with her in my own mind, though I held my 
peace. 

Mr. Ormsby shook his head as if he were not quite 
convinced. I could see that he had an idea that his 
daughter had insisted on Mr. Jaff ray’s going only a 
few hundred yards with her, so great a distaste had 
she for his company. I watched him drying his feet 
and pulling on his socks. It was clear that this simple 
gentleman had made the most of the ten minutes that 
his daughter had been away from his side, and that 
he rather wished that she had kept away for half an 
hour. 

I was silent— guiltily silent— while I watched Mr. 
Ormsby completing his toilet. I could not look at 
Miss Ormsby lest I should betray my secret. Happily 
she was not in a mood to attach any significance to 
my taciturnity. She was rapturous over the scenery 
of the island — over the gorgeous vegetation — over the 
effect of the sunlight that got entrapped among the 
transparent leaves. If I had only gone a little far- 
ther on the road I should have seen a picture that 
would have delighted me, she affirmed. 

I wondered if she saw me blushing. I know that 
I felt a burning blush just between my shoulder-blades. 
Her innocent prattle had a charming effect upon me. 
But still she went on to talk of the pictures— of the 
vegetation — of the views of the mountain with its glens 
and the blue sea in the distance — such a blue ! What 
painter would dare to put such a blue into a picture ? 
she asked. 

12 


173 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


I thought I knew one but I did not tell her his 
name: and then her father gave a stamp or two to 
settle his boots well down on his feet, and, his face 
brightening every minute hearing her delightful 
speech, he said: 

“ So you enjoyed your little stroll up the slope of 
the road, my dear? ” 

“ Oh, I never enjoyed anything so much,” she 
replied, and her eyes were looking straight out to the 
sea, with never a side-glance at the man who had ac- 
companied her on that pleasant stroll of hers, and 
who had (possibly) contributed to the* fascination 
which it seemed to have had for her. 

The man was busily engaged in pulling to pieces 
some plant which he had got hold of. He look d 
at it through a magnifying-glass and communicated 
to us some strange facts regarding its origin and the 
purpose that it fulfilled in Nature’s economy. I have 
always said that he was an exceedingly well-informed 
man — for a barrister-at-law. 

Miss Ormsby paid only the scantiest amount of 
attention to the information which he imparted to us 
out of his storehouse. Her eyes were still turned sea- 
ward ; and she twirled her white sunshade on her shoul- 
der. This made her father rather impatient, as any 
one except a daughter could see. 

He was frowning and inclined to fuss, when a sud- 
den thought struck him. 

“You needn ’t wait for me, Myra, ’ ’ he said. “You 
can go on to the steamer with Mr. Jaffray; we — ” he 
174 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


indicated me — ‘ ‘ shall follow you. I think we should 
do well to go on to the part of the road where you said 
there was a view that pleased you so well. ’ ’ 

I saw that what was in the poor gentleman ’s mind 
was to punish his poor daughter for her indifference 
to Mr. Jaffray : he would condemn her to his company 
for at least another half-hour. 

“ Oh, we can all go together,’ ’ cried Myra. “ I 
don’t mind returning to the road — it is not more than 
five minutes’ walk.” 

I gasped. I was being brought face to face with 
a feminine trait that was altogether new to me. I 
wanted to see more of it. 

But before the situation became acute we were all 
rtartled by a clatter of hoofs on the road. We turned 
our eyes toward the little bridge and saw Major Wing- 
field pull up the pony which he had been galloping, 
on the banks of the stream, and throw himself off the 
saddle, limping down to the water. When at the brink 
he filled a bottle from the stream and in hot haste 
mounted the bank again. 

“ Something has happened,” cried Miss Ormsby. 
“ There has been an accident — Miss Hope ” 

“ I have my flask,” said her father. “ Perhaps 
we can be of some assistance.” 

I hailed Wingfield, hastening to him, when he was 
in the act of mounting his pony — one of the wiry little 
“ Creoles,” as the breed is called in the island. 

“ We were wondering if anything unpleasant had 
happened — Mr. Ormsby has a flask.” 

175 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ Oh, nothing unpleasant — only Mrs. Krux has 
fainted — there was some fuss about a snake,” said 
Wingfield. “ I dare say that the water will pull her 
round all right, confound her ! But it ’s as likely as 
not that a flask will come in handy. Fetch it along. 
You’ll find us a bit farther on.” 

Mr. Ormsby and the others came up just as he put 
his pony to a gallop once more, returning on the road 
by which he had come. He gave them a salute. 

I told them that nothing disagreeable had hap- 
pened. It was not Miss Plope but Mrs. Krux who had 
met with an accident. They had heard Wingfield 
mention a snake. Was it possible that Mrs. Krux had 
been bitten by a fer de lance? 

Miss Ormsby became white. 

‘ ‘ If she has been bitten by a fer de lance she will 
be dead within an hour,” said Jaffray the well-in- 
formed. 

“Yes,” said I, “ if a fer de lance has bitten her 
it will be dead well within the hour.” 

Myra Ormsby turned a reproving eye upon me. 

“I’m not unsympathetic ; no one has been bitten,” 
said I. “ Wingfield knows as much about snake-bites 
as any one, and he said ‘ confound her ! ’ If she were 
in danger he would have pardoned her for — for hav- 
ing done her duty.” 

“ I hope it’s nothing serious,” said Mr. Ormsby. 
“ But a snake ” 

“ It sounds like one of Mr. de Rougemont Bur- 
ling’s, doesn’t it? ” remarked Mr. Jaffray. 

176 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ I never travel without a flask / 7 said Mr. Orms- 
by- 

While we were discussing probabilities we were 
walking rather more rapidly than we should have 
been, considering the heat of the sun, along the road. 
About half a mile from the bridge, just where there 
was a steep bit, we came upon a buggy, and at a short 
distance there was a group that included Wingfield, 
Miss Hope, Mr. Sowerby, and the two Kruxes — the 
lady sitting limply beneath the shade of a plantain 
while Miss Hope fanned her with a leaf. On the 
dusty road lay a dead snake quite three feet in 
length. 

Some of us were badly out of breath, but Mr. 
Ormsby was able to gasp out an offer of his flask. It 
was gratefully accepted by Mr. Sowerby, who was do- 
ing the part of restorer-in-chief ; Mr. Krux was seated 
in the shade smoking a rank cigar and reading the 
Strand Magazine. 

His wife 7 s eyes were open, and she was speaking in 
a low voice to Miss Hope. She drank some of Mr. 
Ormsby 7 s brandy mixed with a little of the water 
brought by Wingfield. I could see that the worst was 
over, whatever might have happened. 

“ The snake — no one was actually bitten? 77 said 
Mr. Ormsby in a whisper. 

“Major Wingfield killed it , 77 cried Miss Hope, rais- 
ing her head. “ He killed it with a stick and it is 
dead . 7 7 

“ It is dead / 7 said I. “ That is probably the re- 

177 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


suit of its being killed. It is these after-effects that so 
often prove fatal. ” 

Though I spoke in a very low voice, the opinion 
seemed to be general that my remarks were in very bad 
taste; so they were. That was probably why Wing- 
field and Miss Hope laughed, keeping well in the shade 
of the plantain. 

‘ ‘ I can ’t make it out, ’ ’ said Mr. Krux, turning and 
twisting the Strand Magazine under his eyes, and peer- 
ing at the page from every angle. “ I can’t make it 
out ! They tell you to look at the picture of the oak- 
tree sideways and you’ll see King Charles II. hidden 
among the branches. But I’ve tried every angle and 
I can’t see a bit of him. Have a try at the thing, 
some of you. ’ ’ 

“ If he’s hidden among the branches it is no won- 
der that you can’t see him, ” said I. 

The invalid became interested. She was in the 
habit of spending a good deal of her time over picture- 
puzzles, worrying over acrostics and such like devices. 
She held out a trembling yellow hand for the maga- 
zine ; but her husband would not part with it : he kept 
frowning at the picture-puzzle, closing first his left 
eye, then his right, finally both eyes ; but even this ex- 
pedient did not enable him to master the mystery. 
The lady became impatient. He passed the magazine 
to her, but very reluctantly, keeping his eyes screwed 
up and his head slightly bent as he sent it on, as if he 
hoped to find inspiration at the last moment. 

Mr. Ormsby looked at his watch ostentatiously. ( 
178 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ I don’t want to break up a pleasant little par- 
ty, ’ ’ said he ; “ but I think it right to mention that 
we must be aboard the steamer within an hour and 
a half. ’ ’ 

“ How time flies,” said Mr. Krux yawning. 

Between us we managed to help Mrs. Krux into the 
buggy. She was very weak, and the sight of the snake 
lying across the road gave her another turn. 

Mr. Krux cast a malignant glance at the reptile 
which had not bitten his wife. 

“ After all it’s not a fer de lance ,” said Major 
Wingfield, turning the thing about with his stick. ‘ 1 I 
don ’t believe that it was a deadly snake. ’ ’ 

“ Oh, in that case — ” said Mr. Krux. 

He seemed to wish to convey to us his unreserved 
withdrawal of the malignant glance. After all the 
poor thing had done its best. 

“ I think I shall walk back to the steamer with 
Miss Ormsby,” said Miss Hope. “ The buggy only 
holds three, with the driver, and Mr. Sowerby must 
look after Mrs. Krux. ’ ’ 

Mr. Krux protested his willingness to walk ; but the 
young woman was firm. 

Wingfield mounted his pony and, saying “ au 
revoir ’ ’ to us, trotted off. 

“ He has a good seat,” remarked Mr. Krux, look- 
ing after him. 

“ Tell us all about it,” said Miss Ormsby, when the 
buggy had got a fair way ahead of us, and we were 
about to follow it. Of course she was addressing Miss 
179 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Hope. Any one could see that Miss Hope was anxious 
to tell all that there was to be told. 

But considering the circumstances, she was mar- 
velously direct in her story. It appeared that it was 
by the merest accident that Major Wingfield was rid- 
ing down the road when the buggy party, having left 
their vehicle a short way off, were walking up it. Miss 
Hope was unable to say if the snake had actually at- 
tacked them or if it was merely crossing the road ; in 
any case, however, Mrs. Krux and the rest were panic- 
stricken, and the lady had fainted on the road. As 
good luck would have it, Major Wingfield, hearing 
their outcry, had dashed up, and throwing himself 
from his pony, had boldly faced the snake and killed 
it with his malacca riding-crop. 

That was the whole story as told by the girl. She 
seemed to break off rather abruptly and to feel that a 
more artistic conclusion was necessary, for, after a 
pause, she said : 

“ It was very brave of Major Wingfield.” 

We all agreed that it was very brave of Major 
Wingfield. 

i ‘ It was fortunate for us that he chanced to be so 
close at hand,” said she, encouraged by our hearty 
acquiescence. 

We all agreed that it was fortunate for Mrs. Krux 
and her party that he was so close at hand. 

Some of us could not help thinking that it was very 
fortunate for Major Wingfield as well. 


180 


CHAPTER XIV 


Once more the steamer was in motion, and we were 
lying in our deck-chairs looking across the sapphire 
sea to the olive and emerald slopes of St. Lucia. 

Of course there was a large amount of comment 
among our fellow passengers upon the slaughter of the 
snake. As it was understood that somehow I was 
mixed up in the affair, I was invited to corroborate 
the story in its various details. Was the snake really 
ten feet long ? I was asked. Had it really sprung out 
from the branches of a tree upon Mrs. Krux? Was it 
really the case that Major Wingfield had produced a 
pet mongoose and set it on the snake at the critical 
moment ? 

Only one youth — although he had changed his 
route of travel, he had not yet succeeded in speaking a 
word to Miss Hope — held the theory that the whole in- 
cident had been got up by Wingfield to give him a 
chance of posing as a hero. 

“ I know that sort of chap,” he said, with a sar- 
donic smile. “ He has been in India, and I know all 
about India — I’ve read Kipling. Haven’t you heard 
of the fakes like this which fellows have got up 
there ? ” 

I admitted that I had heard of fakirs. 

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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ Don’t tell me that a snake would jump out at 
Mrs. Krux, ’ ’ said he. 

“ I won’t — in justice to the snake,” said I. 

“ This is an age of self-advertisement,” he sighed. 
“ I expect that that poor deluded girl thinks Wingfield 
no end of a hero.” 

I told him that I shouldn’t be at all surprised if 
she did. He gave me to understand that he trusted in 
me to undeceive her. He sympathized with me in this 
responsibility which devolved on me, and I thanked 
him. 

Mr. Burling was mindful that he had a position as 
a naturalist to maintain : he seemed to suggest that it 
was hazardous for any party to go ashore at one of the 
islands without first telling him. He illustrated his 
theory by several stories having more or less connec- 
tion with snakes. 

Mr. Fraser, who had unsuccessfully tried to get up 
on the island a matinee of his lecture on the Temple of 
Solomon, spoke seriously to Wingfield on the subject 
of collaborating with him in a future lecture on the 
Snakes of the Old Testament. 

Mrs. Heber had a word of compliment for Wing- 
field; so that on the whole he felt thoroughly bored, 
and expressed the wish that all these people who were 
bothering him would be taken possession of by one par- 
ticular snake who played an important part in Old 
Testament history. 

For myself I confess that I was thinking less of 
that half-farcical snake incident than of the glimpses 
182 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


which I had obtained between the banana-leaves, of a 
phase of femininity that had startled me. 

The more I thought of the duplicity — I liked to 
think of it as duplicity— of Myra Ormsby, the more 
amazed did I become. Not for one moment had I im- 
agined it to be possible that such a girl as she — one 
whose love I felt sure was a pearl of great price — a 
jewel that would enrich the man who was fortunate 
enough to secure it — a gem to cherish all one’s life — a 
thing to live for — to die for — would cast to the winds 
every memory of the man to whom she professed to 
be devoted, and give her face to be kissed by another 
whom she had not known for a fortnight. 

I felt quite like Hamlet brooding over his mother’s 
weakness. I could hear myself murmuring, “ Oh, 
Woman— Woman! ” and “ But one short month 
only it was not even as short a month as February out 
of Leap Year; it was barely a fortnight since she 
had met Jaffray— Jaffray who had been chosen by 
her father to take the place of the man whom she 
loved ! 

I was forced reluctantly to admit that Mr. Ormsby, 
who had been all his life engaged in trade in the Mid- 
lands, knew much more about women and their ways 
than I did. It was humiliating to reflect that all the 
time I had been laughing at him, with a sneer now and 
again, he had been displaying an acquaintance with 
the ways of a maid such as I could never pretend to. 
He had gone on the silly cynical principle of treating 
a woman in love as a reasoning being. He went fur- 
183 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

ther than the proverb which affirms that out of sight 
is out of mind. The proverb says nothing about the 
heart. He had, as it were, flung this new man at her 
—flung him with no knowledge of the science of pro- 
jection — hurled him rudely at her, caring for nothing 
only that he should fall close to her; and yet he had 
succeeded in overcoming the girl’s natural shrinking 
from a new lover presented to her in this unceremoni- 
ous fashion. 

For myself, I felt as if I could never bring myself 
to speak to Myra Ormsby again — to any girl again, so 
rude a jar had I received in this matter. The incident 
meant the shattering of my most cherished ideal — the 
constancy of a woman. 

And when I reflected upon the details of the inci- 
dent I felt even more bitter than I had done in taking 
a general view of what had happened. Only four 
days had passed since she had demolished (so I 
thought) her father s hopes by the shrug she had given 
when I mentioned the name of Jaffray— only the 
previous day she had, at the hotel at Barbados, shown 
her complete indifference to the man, and yet she had 
let him swing her arm as though he were her brother, 
and bend his face down to hers as though he were her 
old lover and not her new. 

But really what I felt most acutely was her return 
to her old bearing in respect of Mr. Jaffray. Al- 
though only ten minutes had elapsed since he had pro- 
posed to her and she had accepted him, she had 
assumed in respect of him her former bearing of indif- 
184 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

ference — bored indifference, and he had been self-pos- 
sessed enough to make us acquainted with some of the 
structural charms of a water-weed which he had picked 
from the stream ! 

I must confess that I felt humiliated at these reflec- 
tions which were forced upon me, and which lasted for 
a long time. I suppose that really what I felt most 
deeply was the blow which my vanity had received. I 
felt taken in by that girl; and I can not fancy any 
more poignant sense of humiliation than that which 
is the result of the reflection that one has been taken 
in by a girl. 

I fully expected that before we should arrive at 
Martinique, Mr. Ormsby would come to me in an out- 
burst of elation, to let me know how well his plan had 
succeeded, for he had been sitting for close upon an 
hour beside Jaffray, and I could not doubt that the 
latter was giving him a rough idea of what had passed 
between Miss Ormsby and himself during the ten min- 
utes or so that Mr. Ormsby had been paddling in the 
strange stream. I wondered if the father would really 
think well of his daughter for having been untrue at 
such very short notice to the man whom she had loved 
on leaving England. 

I came to the conclusion that he would regard her 
conduct as a personal tribute to his own judgment. 
He knew what was good for her and she acquiesced in 
his choice. 

He did not come to me all the afternoon, and I was 
left to say without interruption, “ Oh, Woman, 
185 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

Woman/’ as many times as I thought necessary to 
meet the requirements of the situation. 

We were scarcely out of sight of the green slope of 
St. Lucia before we were gazing across the water at 
the cliffs of Martinique. We crept quite close to the 
shore and saw that the precipitous valleys which 
seamed the mountain-side were more wildly wooded 
than anything we had seen at St. Lucia. We were 
close enough to make out the configuration of many of 
those gigantic rocks which volcanic eruptions of thou- 
sands of years ago had flung like dice into the depths 
of those mysterious glens. The vegetation at this un- 
cultivated side of the island was riotous. Long val- 
leys were jungles — wild places of strange trees, some 
of them stunted in their growth, others luxuriant be- 
yond imagination; and wherever there was a spare 
yard of soil a palm had found foothold. On one of the 
ridges there was a long line of palms, each clearly 
marked against the sky. 

In a short time the two peaks of Mont Pelee came 
m view with the town of St. Pierre stretching, after 
the manner of West Indian towns, along the curve of 
an immense bay ; and as we approached the roadstead 
we saw once more the grateful pale green of the tracts 
of sugar-cane, giving variety to the dull green of the 
mountain slopes above the town. We steamed closer 
and closer, and when, within a half a mile of the shore, 
our anchor was let go, we found ourselves facing an 
immense town sprawling in every direction, the houses 
having the same sickly half-caste expression of many 
186 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

of those at Bridgetown and of all at Castries. Red 
roofs there were by the hundred, giving the idea of 
colored handkerchiefs round the heads of pale mulat- 
toes. Almost in the center arose the twin towers of 
the cathedral, clearly an immense building. Several 
other structures of imposing dimensions could be seen 
among the lines of streets and partly up the slope. 
Close to where the waves were curling along the beach 
was a row of warehouses that would have done credit 
to a large seaport. All of them were empty. They 
were standing merely as melancholy monuments of the 
days when they were all too small to meet the require- 
ments of the commerce. 

When we dropped anchor, only three vessels were 
in the roadstead — one was an American excursion 
steamer, the second was an American barque, and the 
third an American brig. There was a rumor that a 
French frigate was somewhere about, but we did not 
see her. This may have been due to strategy on her 
part. Her commander may have taken a lesson out of 
Rodney ’s log-book and been in hiding in some secluded 
nook known to himself alone, waiting to pounce down 
upon us should we make an attempt to capture the 
island. 

The beauty of the vegetation up the slope, and the 
picturesque situation of the town of St. Pierre, with 
the sparkling, transparent sea quivering in the sun- 
light before it unrolled its floss in a long line upon the 
beach, gave the island the appearance of a veritable 
Paradise. But this was not the region suggested by 
187 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

the creatures in the boats that surrounded the Amazon 
the moment the gun had been fired. Boats were round 
her by the hundred, and every boat was crammed with 
such savages as might have stood to Gustave Dore as 
models for some of his figures when he was illus- 
trating the Inferno. Wild, gesticulating, jabbering 
creatures— yelling demons, with greedy eyes and 
mouths like the mouth of a hippopotamus — noses — 
they had no noses. 

Such negroes I had never before seen. About most 
colored people there is something pleasing — a sugges- 
tion of early innocence — something that induces you to 
begin conversation with them by a joke— so m ething 
that makes you think of them as children; but one 
would as soon think of jesting with Cerberus as with 
one of the Martinique savages. Among them there 
was squabbling and sprawling and gesticulating, with 
an occasional fight. We could not exchange a remark 
among ourselves until the barge of one of the officials 
who was coming aboard pushed the boats to right and 
left. 

“ 0nl y man is vile,” was the first remark made by 
Mr. Fraser. He had been taking snap-shots of the 
boats and their crews. (He told me later in the day 
that he was preparing a new lecture for the autumn 
on the Peoples of Pandemonium.) 

“ Martinique is the Paradise of the West Indies,” 
said young Mr. Gilbertson, who had been reading from 
a guide-book. 

His quotation had been interjected between two 

188 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

such spells of jabbering as I never heard outside the 
House of Commons. That was why we all laughed. 

Only Professor Dugdale was solemn. 

“ There is reason to believe that the island of Mar- 
tinique is the entrance to the Infernal Regions,” said 
he. “I have only a superficial knowledge of geology, 
but before I left England I met with a noted geologist 
and seismologist, and he assured me that his calcula- 
tions convinced him that those two peaks which we see 
above the town, are the pillars at the entrance-gate to 
the region of eternal fire. ” 

I had no idea that Mont Pelee was so interest- 
ing, said Mrs. Heber. “ I thought that it was noth- 
ing more than a foolish extinct volcano. We must go 
up Mont Pelee whatever else we miss,” she added, 
turning to look for her husband. 

Her husband was talking a sort of French to the 
official who had come aboard — I could just hear the 
words : 

Prenez ma parole, Monsieur : il est un homme tres 

mal use. Je le connais ; il est un brav ’ general -j ’ai 

servi au dessous de lui.” 

“ I can well believe the conclusions of your geolo- 
gist when I cast my eye over the side,” said Aytoun. 

“ If y° n is the entrance to the Pit, those are creatures 
that look pretty congenial to the locality.” 

“ There are a good many people who believe that 
Napoleon Bonaparte was an incarnation of the Fiend 
himself,” continued Professor Dugdale. “ More peo- 
ple have believed in this theory than in any other. 

189 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Personally I have no doubt on the subject; and the 
woman who put power within his grasp came from 
Martinique. Bonaparte would never have got com- 
mand of the army in Italy if he had not married 
Josephine de Beauharnais. That moment established 
a Power of Evil such as was never before known in the 
world. That is what convinces me of the truth of my 
friend ’s deduction. No scheme of Hell can be consid- 
ered scientifically or ethically without introducing 
Martinique. ’ ’ 

“ And it was left for the only Christian power in 
Europe to crush the Fiend Napoleon Bonaparte/ ’ said 
Mr. Fraser, with the proper pride of an English non- 
conformist. 

“ How silly one feels who has been thinking of 
Martinique only in regard to the probability of get- 
ting one ’s Kodak films developed, when such lofty dis- 
course is going on, ’ ’ said Miss Crofton to me in a low 
voice. 

“ Will you let me go ashore with you; between us 
we are pretty sure to find some demon who will develop 
our films? ” said I. 

“ It would be so good of you to come with me, ” she 
cried. “ My father is not very well to-day, and I 
don’t think that even I could venture ashore alone at 
such a place as this. ’ ’ 

“ We will go together,” said I, joyfully. I had a 
spasm of joy at that moment when I looked at this 
handsome woman, with her comfortable face, with a 
gray hair or two showing among the brown tresses 
190 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

that she had carefully coiled above the shapely hollow 
of her neck. I felt that I had had enough of Miss 
Ormsby for some time. I knew that by the side of 
Miss Crofton I should not run the chance of seeing any 
more of my ideals lying shattered in the dust. 

The instant that we landed we found ourselves sur- 
rounded by hundreds of brother demons to those which 
we had left in the boats, still jabbering and gesticulat- 
ing, around the steamer, and we had to fight our way 
from the wharf to the town. We were only saved by 
the diversion of the energies of evil toward some more 
recently landed passengers. 

Excellent buildings, large shops and stores were to 
be seen on all sides. In the principal thoroughfare — 
it ran parallel with the shore, but some distance up the 
terrace on which St. Pierre was built — there were two 
long rows of awnings in front of shop-windows, and 
the canvas being striped and the jalousies above being 
painted a bright green, the effect of the whole street 
was quite brilliant. 

St. Pierre and its people formed the most ridiculous 
parody upon a French town that could be imagined. 
The better class of the negro population walked with 
the studied swagger of the Boulevardier, and wore 
their hats rakishly cocked, casting impudent glances 
at the ladies in every group of strangers, whether 
American or English. They had no sense of good 
manners, never hesitating for a moment to brush up 
against any strangers who might be standing for a 
minute or two at a corner ; following up this insult by 
191 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


exchanging with a passing acquaintance a volley of 
half-indecent sallies regarding their visitors, taking 
care to point out the individual referred to, so as to 
prevent the possibility of a mistake. 

The women were more amusing. The tattered fi- 
nery that they wore was the finest that I had ever seen. 
They were like molting parrots. Most of them had 
come very badly out of the operation, only a shred of 
brilliant red or green surviving of all their drapery, 
but they gathered their rags about them with the af- 
fected grace of a Parisienne, and throwing glances be- 
hind them of bewildering fascination, walked off with 
the peacock gait that gave distinction to the minuet of 
the ancien regime. 

And all this grandeur and grace was the center of 
such parrot-cackle as could only be paralleled by the 
cage labeled Raptores in an aviary at feeding-time. 
French shrugs, French gesticulations— elbows close to 
the sides and palms upturned to the skies — all that is 
earicaturable in French manners was caricatured 
here, and with an air of pride and a consciousness of 
dignity that added immeasurably to the effect of the 
whole. 

My companion photographed some of the groups, 
taking care to ask their leave with due humility. They 
granted her request, condescendingly, conscious of 
granting a favor, and then they posed themselves, each 
of them asserting a right to appear in the front rank. 
After a dignified remonstrance — a contemptuous word 
or two, with a shrug, a horrible suspicion seemed to 
192 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

take hold of those in the modest background, that they 
were to be cut out of the picture. Acting on the im- 
pulse of the moment, they tried to overlap those in 
the foreground, and Miss Crofton was adroit enough 
to take her picture of the lot in the various atti- 
tudes which the situation of the moment had pre- 
cipitated. 

She should have waited a little longer : another 
situation had been evolved out of the simple elements 
that had interested us, and it was even more dramatic 
than the first. In it the overlapping process was com- 
pleted, and two bundles of gorgeous rags were rolling 
in the capacious gutter, and the air was dark with 
flying wool. 

We hurried on in search of a photographer who 
would undertake to develop three rolls of films by the 
time the steamer should make the voyage to the island 
of St. Thomas and return to Martinique, and we had 
no trouble in finding the studio ; only the photographer 
shrugged his shoulders and said that his hands were 
so full of profitable work he must decline the contract. 
But there were other photographers — of a sort — in St. 
Pierre, who might perhaps be able to oblige Madame 
and Monsieur. He would not go so far as to give us 
the address of any of the others — in fact, now that he 
came to think of it, he did not know the address of any 
of them. He was very sorry. 

We went down the steep stairs from his studio, and 
into the blinding sunshine of the street. 

“ I shall find one of these photographers if I have 
193 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

to send a bellman round to proclaim that we are in 
search of him, ’ ’ said Miss Crofton. 

I ventured to suggest that our time might be much 
more profitably spent in climbing Mont Pelee; but my 
companion had made up her mind; she would find a 
photographer. 

We strolled down the street and on to the next, 
which contained several houses of importance — some 
of them even with small gardens attached On the 
sunny side I saw a shop of great dimensions, and in 
the window there was a show-card announcing the sale 
of a superior Creme de Cacao — a startling liqueur of 
which I had heard a good deal. We entered the place 
and bought some bottles, and, finding the proprietor 
and his wife very polite, I ventured to inquire for a 
photographer. The former at once mentioned the 
name of the man to whom we had already been, but on 
asking for another, the lady quite glibly said that there 
was an Englishman who was, she had heard, an excel- 
lent photographer, but he preferred working only at 
landscapes; he had traveled all over the island taking 
views of every spot worthy of notice. Some of them 
were, she said, magnificent. Of course, if we desired 
portraits 

But we had no desire for portraits, we assured her. 
We wanted something much simpler; and would she 
have the great kindness to give us the Englishman’s 
address ? 

She was quite pleased to do so. The gentleman’s 
194 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

name was Meester Brown, she said; and from the door 
she was good enough to point out the turn we should 
take to reach his studio. 

“We shall bless the whole family of Brown— I 
wonder does he insist on a final e— if he undertakes to 
do our developments, ’ ’ said my companion. 

We found the studio of Englishman Brown with- 
out difficulty. It was a small affair on the outskirts of 
the town, and as it was built on a slope it was reached 
from the road by a flight of rough stone steps. 

A table stood at one part of the little veranda in the 
shade of a large mango-tree; and at the table a man 
was standing with his back to us, doing something with 
a full-plate printing-frame. 

Miss Crofton said “ Good morning/’ and the man 
turned round with a start; his hands dropped. He 
Jtood there staring at her. She too had started. I 
saw that her face had become quite pale. It had been 
anything but pale before. 

He looked as if he were about to say, as the men in 
the play do — usually in the last act: 

“Is it possible? You here! ” 

But the man said nothing of the sort. He seemed 
to pull himself together. He bowed in the half-hearted 
way of an Englishman who knows that his name is 
Brown. And this time he looked at me. He was a 
man of perhaps forty years of age, rather distin- 
guished looking, with a Van Dyck beard, slightly 
gray. His hair was still more gray. 

195 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ Good afternoon, sir,” he said. “ Views of the 
island, I suppose. If you will have the kindness to 
step inside.” 

I explained to him what was the object of our visit. 

‘ ‘ I think I can manage to develop your films and 
have them ready for you by the time you return from 
St. Thomas,” said he. “ Would you like to have any 
prints? ” 

I told him that I should like to have my two rolls 
printed, and then I turned to Miss Crofton and asked 
her if she would have prints also. 

I perceived that she had lost all interest in the 
photograph question. Her thoughts had wandered. 
I could see by the way she looked at me that she had 
not heard my question. 

“We would like prints of all,” I said to the man. 
“ But please keep our developments separate.” 

“ Certainly,” he said. “ Will you kindly let me 
have your name — your names ? ’ * 

I gave him my name and waited for Miss Crofton 
to give hers. She did not speak. The photographer 
had written mine and paused with the pencil still on 
the paper. He looked at me and not at Miss Crofton 
while he said in a low voice : 

All the films under the same name ? 9 9 

“ You would like yours kept separate, Miss Crof- 
ton? ” said I. 

I heard him give a little gasp when I spoke her 
name. The point of the pencil made a dab at the 
paper, like the pen of a self-registering aneroid. 

196 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

Yes separate, said Miss Crofton, her eyes 
fixed on the tips of her fingers. 

“ Very sood, sir,” said the man in a businesslike 
way , gumming a small label on each tin case contain- 
ing the rolls, and giving a great deal of attention to the 
job. 

I rose from the cane veranda-seat, but Miss Crofton 
did not move. The photographer waited with the tin 
cases in his hand. He remarked that the weather was 
very fine. 

(i We would do well to make the most of our few 
hours ashore, ’ ’ I said to Miss Crofton. 

Will you be kind enough to leave me here for a 
short time? ” she said to me. “ I am slightly— 
slightly that is, I found the sun very hot coming up 
this road. I want to rest for a while. I shall be all 
right in half an hour — or better say an hour — that will 
give you plenty of time to see what there is to be seen. ’ ’ 

Of course I had known from the moment we came 
upon the veranda that she and the man had met be- 
fore ; but I had no idea that they had been on terms of 
such intimacy as caused her to wish to have one hour 
with him at this time. I only demurred for a moment. 

‘ ‘ Do you really feel faint ? ” I said. “ If you do I 
can quite easily stay with you. I don ’t mind the ’ ’ 

1 1 I ’m quite well. Please leave me , 9 9 she said. 

I glanced at her and then at the man. He it was 
who now was examining his finger-tips. 

“I shall call here for you in an hour— perhaps 
less,” said I. 


197 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I went down the stone steps into the road. 

When I looked up after walking on some little way, 
they were shaking hands. That meant that it took 
them quite three minutes to make up their minds to 
shake hands. 

I wondered if I had come upon the real romance of 
the Caribbean — if neither the exquisite Miss Hope nor 
the puzzling Miss Ormsby was to be the heroine of the 
romance of the cruise, but this young woman who was 
no longer young, and who had more than once been 
referred to in my presence as sensible. I felt in- 
tensely interested in her and in this rencontre in so 
strange a place with a man on whom she had been on 
friendly terms at a former time. The man who called 
himself Brown was undoubtedly something beyond an 
ordinary commonplace photographer. He spoke well, 
making the mistakes customary to an Englishman who 
moves in good society. His calling me ‘ ‘ sir ’ ’ sounded 
funny. It had evidently been on terms of social equal- 
ity that he and Miss Crofton had met — so much was 
certain ; but what was to come of their meeting at this 
time? 

I could not hazard a guess. I could only await the 
simultaneous development of the films and the situa- 
tion. 

I made inquiries and found that I could get some 
distance up Mont Pelee within an hour or an hour and 
a half ; so I managed to hire a buggy with a fair pony 
and set out for my drive. 

The road by which I was taken went straight across 
198 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

a narrow spine leading steeply up the hill— Mont 
Pelee was the sugar-loaf to the left of the two which 
stood above the town of St. Pierre — and then followed 
the windings of one of the many valleys which the 
force of old eruptions of the volcano had scored all up 
the slope to the crater. 

It would be ridiculous to make an attempt to de- 
scribe the vegetation which appeared to right and left. 
It was a tumult of growth — a Walpurgis-night riot of 
nature — beauty and grace dancing through the glen 
hand in hand with all that was grotesque and mad. 
Cabbage-palms dominated the ridges of the valley. 
Cacti stretched out stumpy arms like beggars ex- 
hibiting strange deformities of limb. Mango-trees 
forced into curious uncouth attitudes as to their arms 
— some seeming to beckon on a traveler, others to 
menace his approach, were on every side. Here were 
great trees struggling in all the contortions of a death 
agony w T ith the strangling creepers that circled up 
their stems and crawled out on their branches like 
hideous snakes. It seemed as if one could hear moans 
coming up through that weird valley — moans of a con- 
stant conflict being waged between the trees and the 
enemies in whose clutches they were writhing their 
life away. Down in the depths of the mountain gorge 
beneath us were tossed and tumbled the enormous 
crags which earthquakes had dislodged from above, 
or which volcanic eruptions had vomited forth red 
hot from the hell beneath the thin crust of the slope. 
Enormous forests of tree-ferns and tall shrubs half 
199 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

hid the forms of the rocks of the ravine, and all up 
the slope opposite to where we were driving was a 
wilderness of bread-fruits, mangoes, and bananas. 

Above us rose the great cone of Mont Pelee, loom- 
ing gloomily over a desolation of naked rocks of fan- 
tastic shape, their barrenness contrasting strangely 
with the splendid fertility of the ravine on the ridge 
of which we were traveling. 

My driver seemed to have an ample knowledge of 
the mountain-ways, for he had no hesitation in leaving 
the ordinary track and plunging into the dense un- 
dergrowth, cruising along with one wheel a foot or 
two below the other, for perhaps a couple of hundred 
yards, and then twisting the machine about the base 
of a cliff before setting his unfortunate horse to climb 
a bank four or five feet high, and so on to a level 
stretch known only to himself. I am bound to say that 
this system of his was full of surprises. It was cer- 
tainly unconventional, and it afforded me some of the 
finest glimpses I ever had of the island scenery- 
sugar-cane patches, graceful hillocks of brilliant 
green, long gorges, solemn and slumberous, losing 
themselves in a distance of utter blackness. And there 
above all was the tremendous cone of Pelee, that 
mount of mystery, and seemingly above it, the peak 
of St. Croix, crowned with a Calvary. 

Getting out of the buggy when we came to a part 
that no horse in harness could climb, I went on foot 
along a narrow track for about half a mile. I had 
started on this track in the midst of a Paradise of 
200 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

flowering shrubs and sweet-scented nutmegs, but at 
the end of half a mile the vegetation suddenly ceased 
and the scene of isolation that came before my eyes 
startled me. I was looking across a long hollow to 
another ridge of a valley, and this hollow was as bar- 
ren as if the iron harrow of a hurricane had scooped 
through it a few days before, only there was no sign 
that trees had ever been here — no debris of broken 
boughs. It was a scene in keeping with the mystery 
of Mont Pelee. 

And while I stood on the ridge there came out of 
the dimness of the distance one of the strangest birds 
I ever saw— an enormous thing of uncouth flapping 
wings, and an abrupt tail ; it had the head of a raven, 
but the beak of a parrot, and while I watched it, the 
thing alighted on a stone, not more than twenty yards 
from where I stood, and vanished in an instant in a 
most marvelous way. I afterward learned that it is 
called the diablot, and that it makes a burrow in the 
mountain-side for its nest, and only goes out to catch 
fish in tjie bay at night. 

A few months later, when the news came of the 
awful eruption of Mont Pelee and the destruction of 
St. Pierre, I could not but feel that there had been a 
certain premonition of such a catastrophe in the at- 
mosphere of the mountain on the afternoon of my 
visit. I thought at the time that everything seemed 
weird to me only on account of what Professor Dug- 
dale had said about the place. But I know that & I 
felt inclined to ridicule his fantastic theory about 
201 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Napoleon and Josephine, which indeed was the very 
height of absurdity. 

I fancy that it would he quite possible, by ana- 
lyzing one’s sensations, to show that those scenes in 
what was called inanimate nature which produce an 
impression of weirdness, contain some of those ele- 
ments which in the earlier days of the wnrld’s his- 
tory, men, or the primeval ancestors of man, were, 
with good reason, accustomed to dread. The sensation 
of weirdness and gloom produced by looking at a 
rocky landscape may be a survival of a knowledge 
of the dreadful convulsions of nature by which that 
rocky landscape was produced. It is easy enough to 
analyze our sensations when we look upon a picture 
of green pastures and still waters: such impressions 
of pleasure are a survival of those of a pastoral peo- 
ple to whose flocks and herds grass and water were 
essential. But what is the origin of the gloom that 
one feels in looking at one of Salvator Rosa’s pictures 
of volcanic rocks ? Is it due to primeval man’s knowl- 
edge of the fact that wild animals lurked in such 
places, or is it asking too much of an unanalytical 
imagination to go back to a first cause — to go back to 
the days when earthquakes and volcanic eruptions 
were within the experience of all the dwellers on a 
rapidly cooling earth ? Most sensations are the result 
of instinct, and instinct is the result of experience. 

I talked at that time to several people in St. Pierre 
on the possibility of an eruption of Mont Pelee, but 
they all shrugged their shoulders at the notion of such 
202 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


an occurrence. Some of them had never heard that 
any eruption had ever taken place ; with others it was 
a vague tradition: all agreed that another outbreak 
was impossible; and within three months every man 
of them had fallen a victim, with forty or fifty thou- 
sand other human beings, to the volcano. So far as I 
can gather, the molten lava rolled down that valley by 
the side of which I had driven and walked. But for 
that matter rivers of fire must have flowed for hours 
down all the valleys, all rushing together upon the 
town at the foot of the mountains, and sweeping it 
out of existence. 


203 


CHAPTER XV 


Creme de Cacao — that was the theme of the con- 
versation of our shipmates who had been ashore. The 
scenery was all very well, the people of St. Pierre 
were not without interest, the odor of the open drains 
would inflate a large-sized balloon — all these points 
were dwelt upon casually, but the virtues of Creme 
de Cacao constituted a topic that hummed round the 
dinner-tables. The properties of the liqueur were 
within the range of every intelligence — even Major 
Iieber had his views on Creme de Cacao. 

No one had met with any adventure, only Mr. Sow- 
erby had been bitten by a mosquito. Major Wing- 
field did not show any special emotion on being ac- 
quainted with this incident. Mrs. Krux seemed to be 
under the impression that he should have been at hand 
either to avert the disaster — assuming (which we did 
not) that it was a disaster — or to slay the monster 
mosquito as he had slain the snake earlier in the day. 
But Wingfield disclaimed any intention of making 
himself responsible for the destruction of everything 
noxious, and one person who heard him do so re- 
marked that if he should change his mind he would 
do well to start upon the Bakers. 

Then we had the story of the two Irishmen who 

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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

came out to Martinique, and as there was only one 
vacant bed in the hotel, they both turned into it. Dur- 
ing the night the mosquitoes were pretty lively, and 
they seemed to enjoy the flavor of the visitors/ who, 
in consequence, were disposed to be restless, and in 
despair, drew the bed-clothes over their heads until 
they were at the point of suffocation. Putting his 
head out for a breath of air, one of the men saw some 
fireflies floating about the room. 

Tim, my man, we may as well give in at wanst : 
’tis looking for us with lighted matches that they are, ’ ’ 
said he. 

Mr. Burling had of course sampled many brands 
of mosquitoes in his time, but they had never sam- 
pled him. Mosquitoes will no more sting a man than 
will a wasp, he affirmed. But they get annoyed be- 
cause people will not have faith in their friendliness. 
That is why they bite. For his own part, he had no 
quarrel with mosquitoes. When we heard that they 
had never bitten him we had a quarrel with the mos- 
quitoes. 

Steaming along in a night of wonderful moon- 
light under the lee of the high shore of the island of 
Dominica, I found myself in a deck-chair by the side 
of Miss Crofton. Coming on board with her from 
the island I had said nothing to her about her adven- 
ture — if meeting in that strange place with a man 
with whom she had been previously acquainted could 
be termed an adventure. On calling for her in my 
buggy I assumed, for politeness' sake, an air of con- 
14 205 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


cern for her health, and she told me that she had quite 
recovered from the effects of her sudden indisposition. 

But I knew that she would tell me all that it was 
convenient that I should learn respecting Mr. Brown, 
photographer, and I was not mistaken. She sat in 
the moonlight for some time in silence, and there was 
a curious expression of wistful melancholy on her 
face — a look of abstraction. I had an idea that she 
was thinking how best she might begin her story. 

And she began it very simply. 

“ Of course you know that I wasn’t unwell at the 
island, when I begged of you to leave me! M she said. 

“ Of course,” I replied. “ I had an idea that 
you had met the man before and that you wished to 
have a talk with him. Perhaps I was wrong.” 

“You were not wrong,” she said. “ At one time 
— ten years ago — I was engaged to be married to that 
very man. As a matter of fact, I do not consider 
that I ever ceased to be engaged to marry him, al- 
though I have not met him for ten years.” 

“ I am not going to say that the world is very 
small, Miss Crofton,” said I. “I am only going to 
say that the man is the luckiest in the world — he is 
luckier than he deserves to be, unless you had made 
up your mind that he should be kept in ignorance of 
your whereabouts.” 

“ That was not my attitude in regard to him; it 
was his attitude in regard to me. He ran away and 
hid himself, first in South America, then at Marti- 
nique. He cut himself off from every one. He was 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

virtually as dead to every association of the past as 
if he had been buried in the grave. I never thought 
that I should see him again, and yet — oh, I now know 
that I had never given up hope. But it was such a 
strange thing ! What a chance it was that that man 
to whom we went at first refused to develop our films 
— that you should go into that store and make in- 
quiries — that I should walk up those steps and sud- 
denly find myself face to face with him — with him! ” 
Every thing hangs on another, and the string of 
all the incidents we call life. There is no incident in 
our life that stands alone ; each is dependent on the 
others. I wonder what other incident led up to the 
incident of his leaving England and burying himself 
in Martinique. ’ ’ 

It was his becoming engaged to marry me. You 
had an idea that he had done something criminal? ” 
“ That is the usual motive for flight and burial.” 
“ I dare say. You have never heard of a man’s 
disappearing because he was too proud to marry a 
wealthy girl when he had not a penny of his own? ” 

‘ ‘ Never, I admit. But I have known cases of men 
without a penny coming to the conclusion that the 
only thing that remained for them to do was to marry 
a girl with a fortune and stay at home.” 

4 ‘ His name is Beaumont — Hugh Beaumont. When 
I knew him first he was in the army — he was one of 
the best polo-players. He could afford to have good 
ponies ; his father made him a large allowance. That 
was when we met. ... We were to be married in 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

August. His father died in June, and instead of leav- 
ing a large fortune it was found that he had been 
insolvent for several years. Hugh had only the for- 
tune that had been settled upon his mother, but when 
he heard that the bankruptcy of his father’s business 
would bring ruin to many people, he at once handed 
over all that he possessed to the trustees. He only 
was ruined; all the creditors were paid in full 

“ It was an honorable thing to do. Of course, 
the creditors did nothing for him: they grabbed his 
money and left him to look after himself, though they 
had doubtless made fortunes out of his father and 
had been content to run all the risks which being in 
business involves. 

“ He came to me, setting me free. I refused my 
freedom. I was my father’s only child, and we were 
well off. I told him that. He would not listen to 
me. ‘ I will never consent to live upon your fortune,’ 
he said. Then I told him that I would be content to 
wait until he had made a position for himself. ‘ What 
can I do? ’ he said. ‘ I am good for nothing except 
soldiering, and I can make nothing out of that. I 
will not do you the injustice of asking you to waste 
your life waiting for me.’ We parted without having 
come to any agreement. I still refused to accept the 
freedom that he offered to me; and he refused to 
agree to let me wait for him. ... I never saw him 
again until to-day. He wrote to me — one letter — 
bidding me good-by. If he had not resolved to go 
away and bury himself where he could never be 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

found, he felt, he said, that he should yield to the 
temptation which I had placed in his way, and he 
should never respect himself again.” 

“ And now? ” 

(< He is unchanged. He has managed to make a 
livelihood out of his photography. He had a pittance 
of something like a hundred and fifty pounds a year, 
and he finds that the other hundred which he makes 
places him in comparative affluence in St. Pierre. But 
he is unchanged. So am I. Now I have told you 
all my little romance from the beginning to the end. 
You have played a part in the end of it yourself. 
When you drove up to the foot of those stone steps 
I knew that the end had come.” 

“ I hope that it may have a happier ending than 
that, ’ ’ said I when Miss Crofton rose from her chair. 
The deck was almost deserted, for it was getting on 
for six bells. ‘ ‘ I can not bring myself to think that 
you will not receive your reward. ’ ’ 

“ Perhaps I have already received it,” said she. 
“ I wonder what is the real reward of constancy in 
love. I wonder if it has any truer reward than is to 
be found in the consciousness that your constancy is 
met by the constancy of one whom you love. Has 
love anything better in store for one than this ? Good 
night. You are not one of those people who are dis- 
posed to laugh at an old maid’s love-romance.” 

“ It is not laughter that is in my heart at this 
moment, I assure you, ’ ’ said I with her hand in mine. 
“ No, it is not laughter. Good night.” 

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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


It was not laughter that was in her eyes. I saw 
that they were glistening in the moonlight. I think 
that it did her good to have a chance of confiding in 
some one, and I was glad that I was that some one. 
If it had not done her good, why should the tears 
have come into her eyes? 

“ The pity of it — the pity of it! ” I said, drop- 
ping her hand and looking across the space of dark 
blue water that separated us from the steep slope of 
Dominica. 

“ There is no pity of it,” said she. “ We are true 
to each other, and he has been true to the standard 
of honor which he set up for himself and which he 
has made the guide of his life. There is no pity of it. 
Good night. ’ ’ 

She went down the companion without another 
word, leaving me standing at the ship’s side watch- 
ing the approach to the roadstead of Roseau. 

I felt sadder than I had done for a long time, in 
thinking upon all that Miss Crofton had just told 
me. It seemed such a waste. Ten years of a woman’s 
life gone for nothing, and all because of a man’s fool- 
ish sense of honor! That is what my first thought 
was. I felt quite impatient at the thought of that 
woman’s life wasted. I remembered how, when I had 
first come to know her, I had been led to wonder how 
it was that she had never married. I could not be- 
lieve that it was because men had failed to appreciate 
her nature — her charm of character — her sweetness 
of disposition. I thought that she might possibly be 
210 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


thirty-three years of age, and I could not remember 
meeting a more attractive woman. 

Now that I had come to know the secret of her 
remaining unmarried I knew that during the ten years 
that had passed, she must have been beloved by more 
than one man. There were, I knew, a good many men 
who would not regard her possession of a fortune as 
any barrier to their affection for her, even though 
they themselves did not possess a penny. She could 
not but have had many “ offers,” and she had re- 
jected them all, though she did not know whether 
the man who had gone away from her was living or 
dead. 

And yet, when she had come face to face with him 
at last, she had been unable to persuade him that he 
had been doing her a gross injustice ! * I felt impatient 
when I thought of how he had made her suffer, in order 
that he himself might have the consciousness of being 
consistent with the ideal which he had set up to be 
the guide of his life! 

I had no patience with the man — no sympathy 
with his pride; because I could not forget the gray 
hairs which I had noticed curving about Miss Crof- 
ton’s ears. He had had it in his power to make her 
happy, but the gray hairs had come to her and still 
she was apart from him. 

And yet she was contented that things should go 
on as they had been going on. She had no word of 
rebuke for him. She had never felt for a moment 
that she had a need to forgive him for anything. 

211 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Had any one suggested to her that she had been for- 
giving, she would have said : 

“ What had I to forgive — a man for being true 
to himself? ” 

I remained on deck thinking my thoughts, and 
being conscious all the time that I was full of bitter- 
ness in regard to the man whom I had seen at Marti- 
nique — a certain feeling of envy for one who had been 
strong enough to act up to his ideal of what was de- 
manded of a man — I remained on deck until the steam- 
er had slid along the high coast of Dominica and our 
anchor was let go in the deep water only a few hun- 
dred yards from the town of Roseau. 

Moonlight was over everything on land and sea. 
The hollows of the waves were of smooth rolled gold, 
and every wave that fell upon the shore broke itself 
into nuggets, gleaming and glistening among the peb- 
bles of the sloping beach. The white walls of the 
houses were glorified and the commonest roof became 
as splendid as the roof of King Solomon ’s Temple, as 
Mr. Fraser would have said, if he had not taken the 
precaution to turn into his bunk some hours before. 
The lights of the town seemed unnecessary in such 
a blaze of moonlight, and the lanterns in some of the 
boats that surrounded the Mail Steamer were as faint 
as fireflies. So strong a light was over everything be- 
fore one’s eyes that every palm along the shore was 
clearly defined, and the steep and rocky slopes of the 
island seemed to be covered with a golden network 
for the ensnaring of the moonlight. 

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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I did not think that it would be possible for me 
to see to greater advantage this beautiful picture of 
shore and sea — the sea of a dream swaying along a 
dreaming shore, and muffling the plunge of its waves 
lest their roar should break the slumberer’s vision — 
so I made up my mind not to go ashore. I retreated 
as far as was possible from the whirl of the windlass 
for there was cargo to be transferred to one of the 
lighters that came lumbering alongside — I knew that 
the thing was a tub and that its motion was lumber- 
ing; but in the mystery of the moonlight and the 
fascination of this night, it had all the aspect of the 
galley of Ulysses — this was when its sail was spread : 
when its sail was lowered it was like the barge that 
bore the lily maid of Astolat down the river. 

Watching the men working at the forehold, I tried 
to get the spirit of the West Indies into my spirit— I 
had found myself making the effort pretty frequent- 
ly since I had first looked along the low shore of 
Barbados. I hoped to be able to inhale something 
of the atmosphere of these islands for supremacy in 
which Spain and France and Holland and England 
had contended for centuries. 

What was there about these islands that made them 
to be regarded by the great nations of the world as 
a string of unmatched pearls, enriching the wearers 
beyond their fellows ? Almost every island was fought 
for in turn since Columbus brought upon them the 
curse of civilization as interpreted by Spain, with 
marginal notes added by the buccaneers; but Domin- 
213 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


ica had more vicissitudes than any. Although there 
is a bay on the island where tradition has it that 
Prince Rupert found it convenient to anchor some 
of his ships when he was seeking adventure in the 
West Indies, it is not that gallant cavalier whose name 
is most closely associated with this island, but Rodney. 

We can with difficulty realize what Rodney’s vic- 
tory over de Grasse on April 12, 1782, meant to 
England. The American colonies had just been lost 
to us, and nearly all that we had previously won in 
the West Indies had gone to France. St. Kitts, Nevis, 
Montserrat, St. Vincent, and Dominica were soon in 
the possession of the same power. Who was there 
that could avoid feeling that England’s day was over? 
To Rodney was entrusted the task of snatching the 
perishing prestige of his country from the deep where 
it lay gasping. 

He had twelve ships of the line, and after putting 
into Barbados, he took them on to St. Lucia. De 
Grasse was known to be at anchor at Martinique. He 
had been getting together a large fleet, hoping to crown 
his conquests by the capture of Jamaica; but the day 
that his flotilla weighed anchor at Martinique, Rodney 
set sail from St. Lucia, gave chase to the French fleet, 
and got between the lines on the lee of Dominica — 
the cliffs at which I had been looking must have 
echoed to the roar of the guns of the great battle 
that took place — the greatest that these waters had 
ever known. The French admiral, Count de Grasse, 
fought his ships with steadiness and determination, 
214 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


but Rodney possessed brilliancy and originality in 
his methods, and no one can read the history of his 
commission — he had just escaped being sent to the 
Tower, and he had as many enemies in England as 
he had in France — without feeling that he fought the 
fight of a desperate man. He overwhelmed de Grasse’s 
fleet, capturing whatever ships had survived the en- 
gagement, and receiving the admiral’s sword. 

Rodney saved England on that memorable day and 
his name will ever be the most prominent in the his- 
tory of the English in the West Indies. From 1782 
to 1807 the prosperity of the plantations surpassed 
all records of colonial possessions. Immense fortunes 
were made in every direction. Hundreds of ships 
were to be found in every roadstead, and the finest 
frigates in the navy were employed in convoy duty 
with the merchantmen of the Caribbean. 

But the names of many other great sailors besides 
Rodney are associated with the story of the West In- 
dies. Curiously enough, it was on account of the 
claims which Admiral Penn had against the Crown 
on account of his services in Jamaica, that Charles II. 
granted William Penn the tract of backwoods which 
he called Pennsylvania, when he had made his grant 
good by conciliating the Indians. Then it can not be 
forgotten that Nelson obtained most of his naval edu- 
cation in the West Indies, and that he married his 
w ife at Nevis. I fancy that he was as a rule disin- 
clined to include the latter incident among his most 
satisfactory conquests. Jervis is another good name 
215 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

in naval history that must be added to the honorable 
roll of Caribbean heroes. It is doubtful if the list 
will be largely added to in the future. It is scarcely 
conceivable that any nation should put us to the trou- 
ble of defending empty storehouses, and an annual 
deficit. Still it would be rash to prophesy a millennium 
in a region that was once the center of a cyclone of 
battles. One should never call the interior of a vol- 
cano extinct so long as the interior of the globe is red 
hot, and where battles have once raged battles may 
rage again. The working man may once more acquire 
a taste for rum, as he did during one year of great 
prosperity when Mr. Goschen was Chancellor of the 
Exchequer; and if rum were to become popular the 
West Indies would become prosperous. 

It surprises a visitor to observe how the dry rot 
has entered into every industry connected with tb-se 
islands; and yet it can scarcely be doubted that if a 
company were started with a capital of a million or 
so, it would, under proper management, pay a hand- 
some dividend after a few years. Sugar-growing is 
about to be placed on a reasonable basis; hitherto 
it has been conducted on a hand-to-mouth principle 
a fascinating one in the hands of children, but fatal 
for adults. And then what about preserved fruits? 
There are some millions of people at home hungering 
for jam, and anxious for something new in this way, 
and one of these islands might be made to grow as 
much fruit as would supply even an army in the 
field. I forget how many hundred thousand tons of 
216 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

jam were eaten during the South African War. But 
one day I went into the principal shop in Kingston, 
Jamaica, and sampled some of their jams. Every one 
on the list was delicious — nothing made at home could 
approach the best which I tasted here. I asked the 
price, and found that it was eighteenpence a pound. 
It should be fourpence retail, to have any chance of 
competing with home-grown jam. 

I asked how it came to be so dear ; but I was as- 
sured by the proprietor that it was singularly cheap, 
and that as a matter of fact he made nothing out of 
it. That is to say, one starts to bottle jam ; the fruit 
may be had for the asking, sugar is something like 
three halfpence a pound, labor is sixpence a day, and 
yet the profit on jam-making is nil! 

It has been demonstrated that the banana trade, 
if carried on upon a businesslike basis, can change 
an annual deficit into a splendid surplus. But the 
banana is only one fruit out of the fifty marketable 
fruits of the West Indies. The grape-fruit, for in- 
stance, is without an equal in flavor and those refresh- 
ing qualities which make fruit popular. In England 
a single specimen costs from half a crown to five shil- 
lings. In some of the islands one can buy them at the 
rate of three for a penny. And yet the grape-fruit 
will stand a voyage better than a banana. 

The tobacco question is more important. Every 
one who is capable of pronouncing an opinion will 
admit that the best quality of Jamaica cigars is far 
above the average of Havana. It is not so good as 
217 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


the finest Havana; but the finest Havana cost retail 
150 shillings for a box of one hundred — there is, I 
believe, an “ extra best ” sold at 200 shillings — and 
the Jamaica costs 40 shillings. 

Cocoa and coffee can be grown in any quantity, as 
well as arrowroot, nutmegs, and pepper. All that is 
needed to make the West Indies as prosperous as ever 
is capital, and its expenditure in an intelligent way. 
Not capital to the extent of twenty or thirty thousand 
pounds, but to the extent of two or three millions. 

Should this happy condition of things ever be 
brought about, the islands may be considered worth 
defending; but just now the ports are in such a con- 
dition that a couple of second-class cruisers could 
capture half a dozen islands in the course of twenty- 
four hours. 

And all these reflections and calculations are the 
result of standing on the bridge of the Amazon, on 
this night of supreme moonlight, watching the slope 
of Dominica, and hearing the slow wash of the waves 
along the beach of pebbles. 


218 


CHAPTER XVI 


The moon had sunk behind Guadalonpe when we 
anchored in the roadstead at that island. For a week 
there had been ringing through my memory Whit- 
tier’s lines: 

In the sunny Gruadaloupe 
A dark -hulled vessel lay, 

With a crew that noted never 
The nightfall nor the day. 

I learned the whole poem in my school-days, and some- 
how I acquired from it as much feeling as I ever had 
for the romance of these islands — the wickedness of 
the Brethren of the Coast, the cruelties of the slave- 
trade. Up to the time that I read that line, 

In the sunny Gruadaloupe, 

I had made up my mind to become a pirate: I had 
actually gone the length of buying what I thought 
was a cutlass, though it turned out to be an Algerian 
sword worth a whole stand of arms. But after read- 
ing Whittier, I came to the conclusion that I should 
spend my life in the suppression of the slave-trade. 

In the moonlit Guadaloupe 

that was not at all the same thing. And it so hap- 
219 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

pened that I never saw Guadaloupe with the sun 
upon it. 

The effect of the moonlight on the slope of Guada- 
loupe is very different from anything that I witnessed 
at Dominica. High over us towers a dark mountain- 
ous mass, of a velvety blackness, but the whole is 
outlined in silver against the sky. The moon, which 
is hidden behind a headland, has spread a silver em- 
broidery over the ridge of rock— a narrow thread of 
white following the irregular curves and hollows and 
scallop-edges of the island so far as the eye can see. 
And now all the sky is not overflowing with moonlight. 
Above the highest ridge of the island a few stars are 
quivering out of a dark blue sky. 

Three or four ships are in the roadstead, swing- 
ing at, their moorings just as the ship of the blind 
crew swung in the poem. They are all dark-hulled, 
but I am inclined to think that the crews take a par- 
ticular note of the nightfall as well as the day. Still 
it does not need an unusually powerful imagination 
to picture aboard any ship in the roadstead such a 
scene of horror as Whittier has painted in lurid colors, 
when the crew of the slaver were smitten with blind- 
ness. The story of what did actually take place aboard 
the slaver is in keeping with traditional West Indian 
horrors. It is surrounded by the lurid atmosphere 
of the islands the atmosphere in whose languid 
breath the black flag was hardly unfurled sufficiently 
to display the device it bore of the skull and cross- 
bones. In every story of these waters that has burned 
220 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

itself into our memory, the black flag with the grimly 
grinning Death’s head, floats. That is the ensign of 
the Caribbean. 

I was asleep before the steamer had left Guada- 
loupe, and when I awoke we were approaching Mont- 
serrat. 

Some of my fellow passengers who have just come 
on deck have not quite made up their minds what is 
the name of the island before us. It Was Mr. Gilbert- 
son who said that he was looking forward to a day at 
Guadaloupe, as he had been at school with a boy who 
lived there. He wondered if poor old Jimmy Thomp- 
son youth’s name was James Thompson: I am 
not sure that I am fully justified in spelling it with 
a p— was still alive. We ventured to give him a word 
of hope that Jimmy had not been so active a partici- 
pator in the general decay of the West Indies as to 
make it impossible that he should be greeted once 
more by his old schoolfellow. But when I alluded 
casually to the fact that we had anchored for a couple 
of hours during the night at the island home of Mr. 
Thompson, young Mr. Gilbertson assumed that I was 
trying to impose upon his credulity. He put on a 
cunning look and advised me to practise on some one 
more innocent than himself. It would not pay for 
the Royal Mail to skip an island ; and he had heard 
nothing through the night of Guadaloupe. If, how- 
ever, he found that Guadaloupe had been omitted, 
he would claim to have a portion of his passage-money 
refunded. 

15 


221 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

Captain Pellew, onr clashing dragoon, erred in the 
other direction: he assumed that the steamer had 
called at two islands after leaving Dominica, so that 
the coast alongside which we were steering must be 
Antigua. There really was a considerable divergence 
of opinion amidships as to the identity of the island ; 
and no one liked to inquire of the officer of the watch. 
At last some one put a leading question on the subject 
to the Captain, and came back to us, saying: 

“ It is Montserrat/ ’ 

“ Who says so? ” inquired one of the group. 

“ The Captain.” 

“ Oh! What does the Captain know about it? ” 
said Mr. Gilbertson. 

The general idea that prevailed was that in cruis- 
ing in this fashion the name of the station should be 
painted up on a board of reasonable size, and the 
name of the next, island should be called out as is 
done by the conductors on the “ tubes,” as soon as 
the steamer weighs anchor. 

Curiously enough, I found that Montserrat was the 
name best known of all the islands to my fellow pas- 
sengers. Most of them showed a want of familiarity 
with some of the islands ; with others they were vague- 
ly acquainted, but every one brightened up at the 
name Montserrat. It was the best advertised island 
in all the Antilles. Even Mr. Gilbertson had heard 
of it. But he was not sure whether it was celebrated 
for its pills or its cocoa. Was it worth a guinea a box, 
or was it grateful and comforting ? he asked of me in 
confidence. 


222 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I gave it as my belief that Montserrat was nothing 
but a huge lime-kiln; but this was a mistake on my 
part, for friend Aytoun, the Scot, came up to me a 
little later, and asked me what grounds I had for re- 
ferring to it in that way : for his part, he said, without 
professing any particular knowledge of geology, he 
must say that he was unable to discover the least trace 
of limestone in any formation of the cliffs, and his 
binoculars were exceedingly good. 

Two days later he explained to me that he thought 
it possible that I had been making an allusion to the 
limes of Montserrat; if so, I should have said limes 
and not lime. 

Some of us went ashore for a couple of hours, and 
I found that Montserrat more closely resembled of all 
the islands we had yet visited the West Indies of the 
old prints. We expected every minute to be met by 
a slave-trader with a broad-leaved hat and white duck 
pantaloons. At the deepest part of the curve of the 
bay were some low buildings suggesting ‘ ‘ factories. ’ ’ 
From a distance very few signs of life were apparent ; 
the long shore with its lines of palms was silent; even 
the breaking waves seemed whispering ‘ ‘ Hush ! ’ ’ 
When we landed it was without any risk of being 
torn to pieces by wild negroes such as we had run at 
Barbados and Martinique. Every one here was deco- 
rous. The only thing that astonished us was to see 
some negro women striding along carrying huge bas- 
kets of “ washing ” on their heads. Whose washing 
it could be, goodness knows. It seemed to us that 
223 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

one basketful would be enough for the whole of this 
island. 

I strolled up the long street of the little town and 
found that it contained, in addition to the usual ne- 
gro cabins, several well-built houses, and one general 
store that would have done credit to any English vil- 
lage. The proprietor had hardly any color: he was 
more than courteous, and although I made only a few 
insignificant purchases, he begged me to wait for a 
short time until he got some flowers for me. He pre- 
sented me with quite a fine bouquet of roses and ala- 
mander. 

I found that the people here are extremely proud 
of their last hurricane. They refer to it just as some 
towns refer to a Royal visit. They convey to one the 
idea that they feel that the visit from a first-class hur- 
ricane confers great social distinction upon them. The 
course of the Royal progress made by their visitor some 
years ago is easily discernible. It cut its way across 
the island as a snow-plow forces its share through 
the snow. Down the slope across the town and down 
to the very water’s edge one can see the broad band 
of its devastation. Trees were uprooted by the thou- 
sand and whirled through the air like straws. The 
lime-juice factories were laid level with the ground. 
A church was destroyed and another was unroofed. 
Stones weighing half a ton were whisked away from 
their original resting-place, and while the fury of the 
hurricane lasted the air must have been thick with 
zinc roofs. They seem to have been flying about like 
224 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

crows at sunset. My friendly merchant showed me 
buried in the wooden pillar of his veranda, a piece 
of zinc about three inches across at its broadest part. 
It was a portion of a roof, and it was sunken quite 
two inches into the woodwork, so firmly that it could 
not be removed unless the wood were to be cut away 
on each side of the incision. I have seen queer things 
done by wind and waves in various parts of the world, 
but nothing queerer than this freak of the Montserrat 
hurricane. 

I had heard that on this island one might come 
upon many of the inhabitants pronouncing their words 
with an Irish accent. I made it a point to ask ques- 
tions of every one whom I met, but I was not fortu- 
nate enough to detect a trace of anything beyond the 
pure negro. The kindly storekeeper spoke English so 
correctly as to lead me to feel sure that he must have 
been of Irish descent; but he knew nothing of this 
himself. 

I should mention that this gentleman, in giving 
me an account of the hurricane, stated that the most 
curious result of the visitation was that the course 
of the prevailing wind on the island had completely 
changed. Before the hurricane the prevailing wind 
for certainly ten months of the year was something 
like S.E., I think he said; but since then the prevail- 
ing wind was N.E. I will not be positive as to the 
exact direction in either case, but I know that the 
divergence which he mentioned was quite as great as 
I have put it. 


225 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

Our anchor was up before lunch, and we were 
steaming for Antigua before some people had made 
up their minds what was the name of the island which 
we had just visited. 

The Krux family and Miss Hope had gone ashore 
at Montserrat, but Major Wingfield, although he had 
acknowledged to me that he was greatly interested 
in lime-juice, did not leave the steamer. Mrs. Heber 
thoughtfully suggested the possibility of snakes being 
rampant at Montserrat, making it imperative that he 
should go ashore ; but he let her talk on ; and she told 
me in confidence that, after all, she did not think that 
he was in earnest. 

The fact was that, since he had been the hero of 
the snake adventure at St. Lucia, Wingfield, so far 
from acting as most people predicted that he would 
in regard to the Krux group, had studiously avoided 
them. He made one inquiry respecting the health of 
Mrs. Krux, but that was all. He read a novel on his 
deck-chair for an hour and then went on the bridge 
for an hour; but in spite of the fact that the chair 
on one side of Miss Hope was vacant and inviting, 
he never sought to occupy it; and when he might 
reasonably have been expected to go ashore at Mont- 
serrat — just to make it all right with the snakes, some 
one said — he had remained aboard the steamer. 

It was the same way between Montserrat and An- 
tigua.* Once more there was a vacant chair beside 
Miss Hope and once again it continued vacant. 

People nudged one another, and I was invited to 
226 


« SHIPMATES IN SUNSPIINE 

arbitrate on the delicate question as to whether or not 
he had sustained a rebuff in the Krux quarter. 

But before the outline of Antigua became visible 
I was assured (in confidence) that Major Wingfield 
had seized the opportune moment when Mrs. Krux 
was off duty the previous afternoon to propose to 
Ethel Hope, and he had been ignominiously rejected. 

Half an hour later I was told (in a whisper) that 
the snake story at St. Lucia was all a fabrication. 
Mrs. Krux had swooned away on seeing Major Wing- 
held with his arm round Miss Hope’s waist on the 
road to Government House. 

I did not think it at all generous of young Mr. Sale 
— he it was that had changed his route — to be jubilant 
and jocular when acquainting me with Wingfield’s 
rebuff. It was this same youth who had affirmed that 
on the strength of having played the part of a circus 
Perseus to Miss Hope’s fully draped Andromeda, 
Wingfield would never leave her side for the rest of 
the voyage; but he had forgotten this; and that was 
why I acted as a villain in regard to this young man, 
urging him with Iago-like cunning of innuendo and 
significant hints, to take his courage in both hands and 
seat himself beside the girl — it would be for the first 
time. With diabolical ingenuity I pointed out to him 
how Major Wingfield had carried all before him, up 
to a certain point, and with Machiavellian craft I 
suggested that what Wingfield had done any one else 
could do, with a moderate share of luck. 

I so worked upon this simple-minded youth that 

227 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE * 

he went down to his cabin, put on a clean collar and 
a tie of tropical blue, made up in the knot of the wild 
sea-dog, and in view of all the other passengers, 
walked boldly up to the vacant chair next to Miss 
Hope, and threw himself into it, with the nonchalance 
of a man of fashion. But at this critical point his 
courage failed him. He had been wound up to go 
thus far and no farther. He had not even so much 
left as would permit of his addressing Miss Hope. He 
simply sat there looking out straight before him. 

Miss Hope went on turning over the leaves of her 
drawing-book, quite unconscious of his presence. Her 
book was one given over exclusively to the illustration 
of the artistic ideals of her friends; and in order that 
uniformity might be observed in this record, she had 
made it a rule that only one ideal should be defined, 
and this definition was to take the form of a pig done 
in outline. 

On every page the ideal pig of one of her friends 
wallowed or appeared rampant, couchant, or dormant, 
according to the promptings of the imagination of the 
illustrator whose eyes were shut. Some pigs had the 
tails of Pomeranian dogs, others had the tails of cows. 
A few had eyes between their shoulders, and as many 
more had eyes in the center of their bodies. It did 
not matter. Every record brought back sweet mem- 
ories to the girl, not necessarily connected with artistic 
endeavor ; and she was quite unconscious of the exist- 
ence of the youth who had come beside her, and who 
sat there looking very ill at ease. 

228 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

But the rest of the passengers who were on deck 
were not equally unconscious; and the young man 
found himself the center of much interested observa- 
tion. He had walked along the deck to that chair 
with such an air of determination that it seemed im- 
possible that he should suddenly become unnerved. 
They waited for him to do something — to begin to talk 
to the girl or to throw himself at her feet— to do some- 
thing definite like that ; and when he only responded 
to the interest which they took in him by staring- 
straight out before him, people began to smile, and 
where proximity permitted, to nudge one another. 
He must have seen the nudges — some of them were 
so pronounced as to be almost audible. Still he re- 
mained with that fixed look upon his face— the look 
of one who is mesmerized and making a fool of him- 
self, but who is unable to release himself from the 
spell. 

Suddenly Miss Hope closed her artistic treasury 
and using the back of it as a desk, began to write a 
letter to be posted at Antigua. She had got to the 
end of the second page before the unhappy young 
man had sufficiently recovered from the strain put 
upon him in his attempt to act in a cutting-out expe- 
dition, in accordance with the traditions of West In- 
dian romance. But having recovered, he acted with 
promptitude. He got upon his feet and walked 
straight for the companion. 

He went into his cabin and did not appear on deck 
for the rest of the afternoon. 

229 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


An hour after his disappearance, however, Mr. 
Burling was seen to lean over the side of the steamer 
gesticulating strongly as it seemed to some one in the 
water. 

“ Go back — go back! ” he shouted, apparently to 
the swimmer. ‘ ‘ Go back while you have a chance ! ’ ’ 

His vehemence alarmed us. Several of us ran 
across the deck and looked over the bulwarks. There 
we saw the head of the young man projecting beyond 
the line of his port-hole. He was taking the air in 
this fashion, probably feeling his cabin a little stuffy, 
and as he was looking down and not up, he had failed 
to see the gesticulations of Mr. Burling, and he had 
no idea that the warnings were addressed to him. 

The young man was once more the center of atten- 
tion, and even Miss Hope looked over the side and 
down to where his head bulged out from the iron side 
of the steamer. 

Mr. Burling called loudly for a steward, and when 
one came he despatched the man to the cabin of the 
youth to force him to draw in his head. 

“ Don’t leave his cabin until he has done it,” he 
cried. “ I only hope to heaven that it is not too late. ’ ’ 

The steward was not absolutely certain that no joke 
was being played off on him. He demurred. Any one 
could see that he felt that the coercion of a passenger 
who had a mind to look out of his port was not within 
the scope of his duties. 

“ The man may be strangled while that fool waits 
here,” cried Mr. Burling. “ What is the number of 
230 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


the cabin? — take me to it,” he added, making haste 
to reach the companion, the steward following more 
leisurely. 

We all laughed, and looked down the side of the 
steamer. The youth’s head still bulged out from the 
glass rim of the port. But even while we watched it 
was suddenly withdrawn. We could hear the sound 
of voices coming through the open space where the 
head had been. We laughed. 

“ I can’t for the life of me see why a chap 
shouldn’t be allowed to look out of his port if he 
chooses,” remarked some one. 

“ Can’t you understand,” said another, “ that if 
we were to meet a vessel that wanted to cut it very 
fine passing us, the chap who puts his head out might 
be decapitated? ” 

“ It looks jolly like as if de Rougemont Ananias 
had lost his head already,” said a third. 

At this point Mr. Burling came on deck again. 
He was wiping his forehead. 

“ I believe that I was just in the nick of time,” 
he said in self-congratulatory tones. 

“ That was rather a pity, wasn’t it? ” said a by- 
stander. 

“ Don’t talk that way; you don’t know what a 
turn it gave me to see that young idiot’s head outside 
the rim of his port,” said Burling. 

“ I suppose it did look a bit like the muzzle of an 
obsolete thirty-two pounder looking out of a gun- 
port,” said some one else. 

231 


{ SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

‘ ‘ I shall never forget the day when the same thing 
happened aboard a steamer on which I sailed between 
Rangoon and Australia, ’ ’ said Mr. Burling, solemnly. 
“ A young fellow— he was in the Indian Civil Service 
and was making the voyage for his health— was fool 
enough to thrust his head through the rim of his cabin 
port, and when he had done so, he found that he could 
not withdraw it. You see, his head was a tight fit, 
but by twisting it about, he just managed to get it 
through. It is one thing, however, to get your head 
out of a hole and quite another to get it back. So 
that unfortunate man found. He called for help, and 
the captain, the surgeon, the purser, the chief engineer 
and the ship’s carpenter all tried to work his head 
back. It was all no use. They poured a gallon or 
two of the purest lubricating oil over it — they twisted 
him round and round like a corkscrew; but all to no 
purpose. The sun sank, a ball of fire, into the crim- 
son waters; but the man’s head still remained on the 
wrong side of the port. They lowered food to him and 
he ate it to keep up his strength. They lowered a hat 
to him lest he should contract a chill ; and the captain 
gave orders to the chief engineer to cut away the plate 
out of the steamer s side in the morning. It was the 
only way they saw of saving the man’s life. Unfor- 
tunately when the morning came it was too late. 
Shortly after midnight we heard the poor fellow shriek 
out— a stifled shriek— I was on deck at the time talk- 
ing to the chief officer, and I rushed to the side. Alas ! 
all that I saw was the long ivory blade of an enormous 
232 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


sword-fish, and it was crimson to the hilt — I mean to 
the snout. I rushed down to the cabin. The poor 
fellow’s body lay on the floor of his berth; but his 
head — it was not at that side of the port. The sword- 
fish seeing it projecting, had shorn it off as clean as if 
it had been done by an executioner on Tower Hill. 
Can you wonder now that when I see a man putting 
his head through his port, I feel queer? ” 

There was a long silence before some one said : 

“ I think I’ll have a cocktail.” 

“ And I,” said another; “ well, I think I’ll have 
a cock-and-bull tale.” 

There was a drizzle of laughter, and when it had 
passed away, Mr. Burling said : 

“ There are some chaps who, if they hear of any 
experience outside their own limited range, make a 
point of doubting it.” 

I sympathized with him, and told him of a friend 
of mine who had a pet sword-fish and taught it the 
complete sword exercise. At the word, he would 
“ draw,” “ slope,” “ carry,” and “ return ” with 
the utmost precision. 

There was a sudden breaking up of our group. 


233 


CHAPTER XVII 


The roadstead of St. John Antigua, at the west 
of the island, affords a safe though somewhat shallow 
anchorage within a few miles of the shore. The mail 
steamer anchors in sand not far within the low head- 
lands at the entrance to the harbor, and somewhat 
closer to the eastern than to the western point. There 
is nothing imposing in the panorama that unrolls itself 
while soundings are being taken. The shoreway on 
one side is merely undulating. Sand-hills, covered 
with that indefinite form of vegetation known as 
scrub, slope gently down to the sea and end in yellow 
crescents of sand with scarcely a fleck of foam to 
mark the breaking of the low waves. Far away, where 
the two shores meet, the little town slumbers in the 
afternoon air, as doth every island-town that I have 
yet seen in these waters, ‘ ‘ in which it seemeth always 
afternoon. ’ ’ A glimpse of church towers, the chimney 
of a factory, the suggestion of what might have once 
been a fort bristling with guns— these are the ordinary 
incidents of the approach to a West India island- 
town, and they are not wanting during our half-hour 
run in the launch from the steamer to the little wharf. 

Three little bays are on our right, with scrubby 
slopes beyond, and when we approach the masonry 
234 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

that was once a fort we perceive that it retains its 
guns. They lie as abject and awkward as negroes 
in the sun — a rusty muzzle gapes foolishly to seaward, 
suggesting an actor who has forgotten his words ; an- 
other yawns in the other direction, and in front of 
the aperture a friendly palm projects an apologetic 
frond ; a third has dropped drunkenly from its rotten 
carriage and lies in shocking unconsciousness half 
sunk in the sand. But piracy is obsolete. The fort 
is a ruin. The weapons are not worth carrying away. 
There they will lie till the rust reduces the tubes to 
the thickness of tin, and then, perhaps, the Chinese 
Government may make an offer for them. Farther 
on, where the channel narrows, is another building, 
also founded on a rock. We learn that it is a lunatic 
asylum. This building is in thorough repair. There 
seems no likelihood of its becoming an object of mold- 
ering interest: there is nothing obsolete in lunacy. 

The channel still narrows, and we find ourselves 
passing under the bows of a bark of four hundred 
tons discharging deals. This looks like business ; and 
so it is, for we learn that huts are in course of erection 
for some thousands of Boer prisoners, and Antigua 
has not been so overwhelmed with work for years — in 
fact, not since the great hurricane of a few years ago, 
when it was necessary for Sir George Melville, the 
Colonial Secretary, to make arrangement for the pro- 
visioning of fifteen thousand people within twelve 
hours — a feat which was triumphantly accomplished. 

The fresh influx of business just now is due also 

235 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


to the hospitable intentions of the Government, for 
the coming Boer guests must be fed as well as lodged, 
and I subsequently learned from a storekeeper in the 
town that true British hospitality is to be shown to 
the new visitors ; the fact being that, though for half 
a century flour of a certain degree of fineness has been 
thought good enough for the households of Governor- 
Generals, Colonial Secretaries, and even for their pri- 
vate secretaries, it has been found that to meet the 
requirements of the fastidious Boer palate, a much 
finer quality is necessary ; consequently a consignment 
of the “ extra superfine ” is at the point of arriving 
at the island for the prisoners! This statement I 
was at the pains to verify; so that it can easily be 
believed that the general population of English exiles 
who have borne the burden and heat of the perpetual 
Midsummer Day of Colonial Office indifference, have 
had their spirits raised by the hope of being able to 
catch the crumbs that fall from the captives’ table. 
Recalling my experience of Boer hospitality, which 
took the form of unbruised mealies and odorous bil- 
tong, in the old days in South Africa, I could not but 
smile. If the Boers had ever reached the island of 
Antigua, they would never have left it. 

That the High Street of the City of St. John is 
properly so called, one begins to realize after one has 
gone for a few hundred yards up the slope on which 
it is built. It is ‘ * high ” ; in fact, ‘ ‘ gamey, ’ 9 for to 
right and left of the chief thoroughfare are avenues 
of huts mainly inhabited by the negro population, 
236 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

and now and again a whiff of the choicest tl bouquet 
d’Afrique ” dwells on the breeze. But, on the whole, 
the High Street has about it all the repose of a self- 
respecting suburb, with rates verging on seven shil- 
lings in the pound— say, Brixton or Crouch End. The 
villas are minimized by ten diameters, and the garden 
patches are few ; only at intervals one comes on a 
group of coconut-palms twenty or thirty feet high, 
and an occasional cactus of a dusty green. Glancing 
through the open jalousies, we got frequent glimpses 
of patches of emerald, surrounding trees which I took 
to be mangoes. That glimpse of green was pathetic 
enough for me. I knew that it is nightly the center 
of a little group of bronzed exiles who talk of 
“ home ” by the hour — home, with the sound of the 
tree-lizards shrilling through the sultry air, beneath 
strange constellations and a lop-sided Great Bear 
pointing derisively to the Pole Star a few degrees 
above the horizon. 

Farther on the sound of a billiard-ball clicks 
through the green jalousies of a low building as neat 
as neat can be, and we find ourselves in the billiard- 
room of the club, with cocktails flying through the 
air as thick as pheasants in a successful battue. The 
cocktail is to be accepted with caution. Like the pheas- 
ant, it is apt to leave the impression of a rocket when 
it passes. But it is, we are assured, medicinal, and 
it certainly tastes like an apothecary’s shop in mid- 
summer. I believe that a cocktail should be accepted 
in serial form, and without illustrations. 

16 237 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Within the cool depths of a cane chair it is pleasant 
to hear more exile chat — to recall with these country 
members of a Piccadilly club, the incidents of a bil- 
liard tournament fought out long ago, and long ago 
forgotten even by the victor. As a matter of course, 
the approaching Boer is talked about in exile circles 
with enthusiasm. The topic represents in this village, 
presided over by a Lieutenant-Governor (with the 
title of His Excellency), the new play of the London 
dinner-party, or the coming circus of the English 
village. Ships have been arriving with wood for the 
huts. Sapper chiefs have been slaking their thirst 
with lime — the native lime that assimilates so well 
with Apollinaris — within these walls for hours daily, 
discussing interminable details. On one of the billiard- 
room chairs at this moment lies a dumpy level and 
folded tripod — usually the pioneers of a prospectus, 
but in this place the symbols of the sovereignty of a 
paternal — a maternal Government. 

“Is it possible that so simple a matter as the 
housing of a couple of thousand Boers can create so 
great a fuss? ” I inquired, for that dumpy level had 
about it the menacing aspect of a machine-gun. 

Come and see,” said one of the exiles. I went 
and what I saw filled me with admiration. 

We walked past Government House — a very suit- 
able residence for a village Governor-General with a 
taste for tropical botany — and up a slightly hilly 
road, leading to a small plateau, with a band-stand 
and the brevet rank of “ park ” — on for a few hun- 
238 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

dred yards to a cricket-ground, as well kept as Lord’s, 
and more picturesque (if that were possible), for the 
coconut-palms and flaming flamingo hibiscus of St. 
John are beyond the dreams of St. John’s Wood. 

A few hundred yards farther, still ascending, and 
we are led to a splendid plateau of irregular surfaces, 
thickly overgrown with scrub, not tawny, but green, 
and here are to be found the first signs of a new occu- 
pation of the island. 

Stacks of timber stand to right and left of a long 
building, which we learn is the island prison, and 
projecting just beyond the face of a small mound is 
a roof. In a few minutes we come to six huts that 
have already been erected — long, spacious buildings, 
fixed on large concrete blocks, each with a broad ve- 
randa, to prevent the homesick Boer from forgetting 
his native stoep. To call the huts huts would be ab- 
surd: in the catalogue of a house-agent of the least 
amount of imagination they would figure as “ highly 
desirable bungalow residences ” — a West End agent 
would term them bijou, and ask a high rent for the 
worst of the street. 

A little farther to the north, preparations are also 
being made for the accommodation of an English regi- 
ment to act as guards of the prisoners when they ar- 
rive; but, of course it is not to be expected that the 
“ most favored nation ” clause in the contractors’ 
instructions should apply to these guards — they will 
have to be contented with ordinary barrack accom- 
modation. 


239 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


The plateau on which the first camp was to be 
erected is certainly the most picturesque in the island. 
The panorama which unfolds itself in every direction 
before our eyes is impressive. Behind us where we 
stand and far beneath is the little town of St. John, 
touching the bluest bit of sea that ever glistened be- 
neath a Vesper sun. Farther to the north the cool 
sea stretches, and is only partly concealed by one of 
the mounds close at hand. All the space from the 
northern shore to the central plateau is broken up in 
patches of olive and green — scrub and sugar-cane — 
most grateful to the eye. Then far away to the east 
we have a picture of undulating valleys dwindling 
into the distance, where a hollow in the shore-cliffs 
twenty miles away, gives another grateful glimpse of 
silver sea. From this quarter a breeze is blowing, soft 
beyond expression, balmy beyond imagination. The 
highest hills are those to the southwest, and they are 
full of light and color, though eight miles away. 

Assuredly, if the Boers had ever reached the island 
they would never have left it, and I, for one, believe 
that their occupation would have had a better effect 
upon the West Indies than had the occupation of the 
islands by any of the other illustrious exiles in the 
port. 

We returned to a delightful repast at an official 
residence, and had time to look in at the Cathedral — 
an immense church built at the top of the hill beyond 
the High Street, surrounded by palm-trees, and the 
graves of gallant men who died serving their country. 

240 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


One soon learns why there are so many palms in the 
West Indies. They are for the heroes who have given 
their lives for their land, whether they were soldiers 
or sailors or civil administrators. 


241 


CHAPTER XVIII 


The passage between Antigua and the islands of 
Nevis and St. Kitts occupies only a few hours’ steam- 
ing at the gentle pace set up by the Royal Mail. For 
the greater part of the time we seemed to be sailing 
on a great inland lake. On our starboard side tow- 
ered a long range of irregular hills, indented by small 
bays, and broken up by great valleys, all reveling in 
the pansy-purple of an exquisite twilight. But in a 
brief space there came about one of the most marvel- 
ous changes of color that I have ever seen. It was as 
if it had been brought about by the dropping of one 
curtain and the raising of another. The distant coast 
of St. Kitts on the port side, which before had been 
of a misty gray, had now become delicately pink, and 
quite unreal — more unsubstantial than a mist. It 
seemed of the transparency of gauze permeated with 
pink. The sea was of the deepest blue, but the sky 
above us and spreading on to the east was green — 
the faint green of an opal in places, and of a turquoise 
in others. In the tenderest gradations it dwindled 
into saffron about the west. Only here and there a 
thread or two of orange appeared, and a patch of 
pink, floating like a rose-petal blown upon a grassy 
lawn. 


242 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


On through this mysterious sea and this atmos- 
phere of mystery we stole, conscious of no change 
of color — no deepening of the blue beneath us — no 
dwindling of the opal green around us — until we be- 
came aware of a white moon looking at us through 
the saffron gauze. The face of the moon was white 
as a bleached leaf. We seemed to be moving through 
the unreal scenery — the unreal atmosphere of a 
dream and what was strangest was the lingering of 
the lights and the tints about us. There was no 
change in the sky or in the water; although the fig- 
ures of the people on our decks had become shadowy. 

Then the moon grew more distinct, and the colors 
above us seemed, not to drift away to the west or to 
the east, but simply to recede — to be caught up into 
the heaven itself. We felt that it had been given to 
us to see in one hour all that Turner had seen in a 
lifetime — to have a glimpse of the dream of Dante 
Rossetti when he wrote : 

Between the sun and the moon, a mystery, 


We had no business to detain us at Nevis, and I 
felt sorry for this. The island is one of the most in- 
teresting in this archipelago; for it was a hundred 
and fifty years ago the typical planter’s island — pa- 
rent of the colonies — the most aristocratic of all. There 
was a society here whose leaders gave social laws to 
the other islands, and endeavored to enforce their ob- 
servance — rather a difficult matter, I should imagine, 
243 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

for, sailing in these waters to-day, one becomes im- 
pressed with the isolation of each community. We 
scarcely ever caught sight of a ship going from island 
to island. Still during the eighteenth century and 
the first twenty or thirty years of the nineteenth, these 
waters were crowded with shipping, and almost every 
planter had his own smacks and schooners, so that 
people could go from Nevis to Antigua or St. Kitts 
to a dinner-party or a ball arranged after the true 
Vauxhall or Ranelagh mode. 

I am sure that Miss Gertrude Atherton gives in 
The Conqueror a faithful glimpse of the planter’s 
life at Nevis and St. Kitts during the middle of the 
eighteenth century, when her hero, Alexander Ham- 
ilton, lived in these islands. But from what this de- 
lightful writer tells us respecting the various failures 
of Hamilton’s father, it is quite clear that it was as 
easy to lose a fortune in sugar-cane in those days as 
it is to-day. 

A certain additional interest attaches to Nevis in 
our eyes, through the incident of Nelson having mar- 
ried at this island the widow of one Dr. Nesbit. The 
entry of the marriage is to be 'seen in the register of 
the church where it was celebrated. Thus it is that 
the name of Hamilton is connected with this island 
in the case of Nelson, the connection is not so hon- 
orable as in that of Miss Atherton’s Conqueror. 

We were away from Nevis and had crossed the 
channel to St. Kitts before the moon had risen high in 
the sky, and the moment that we dropped our anchor 
244 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


we began to realize the feelings of the honest mer- 
chantman when boarded by pirates. On the sides of 
the steamer, thick as barnacles, and possessing a good 
many of the qualities of the barnacle, swarmed scores 
of ill-looking ruffians, out of the night, wanting only 
pistols in their belts and cutlasses between their teeth 
to complete the illusion of their calling. They board- 
ed us fore and aft, and practically took possession 
of our decks. Walking the plank seemed imminent, 
when happily one of the officers had his attention di- 
rected to the success of the boarding-party. In sym- 
pathy with the best traditions of romance he leaped 
among the buccaneers single-handed and hurled them 
over the side into their boats, and the decks of the 
good old Amazon were free once more. 

But such a menagerie of yelling, shrieking, and 
squabbling as followed! It seemed as if the mon- 
keys had invaded the parrot-house. Not a phrase 
either of vituperation or denunciation could we make 
out ; all was gibber and jabber — in bass and tenor and 
an infuriated falsetto — and the silver moonlight over 
all — and the phosphorescent glitter of the great 
rollers plunging along the mysterious coast in the 
distance ! 

By some means the negroes had heard that a pas- 
senger was disembarking at the island, and all this 
fuss — this attempted capture of the steamer, this mus- 
tering of the flotilla of boats — represented nothing 
more than a healthy business spirit to secure the con- 
tract for transporting his luggage to the shore. 

245 i 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


I saw the man ’s luggage brought on deck. It con- 
sisted of two brown-paper parcels, a bundle of soiled 
collars of an obsolete shape, and a Gladstone bag. 
The tumult of which these were the center seemed 
quite out of proportion to the prize. I felt as did 
the Jew who threw his half -gnawed knuckle of pork 
overboard, when the tornado had been sent as a judg- 
ment on his indulgence in the forbidden — “ it was 
a deal of fuss to make over a trifle.’ ’ 

But even after the passenger and his luggage had 
been swallowed up in the darkness, the noise of the 
niggers was continued, only reduced within the bounds 
of the decorum of the padded room, when a boat con- 
taining half a dozen minstrels came alongside. There 
was an orchestra of a Addle, a tambourine, and a whis- 
tle — one of those that go through the world prejudiced 
by never being named except in conjunction with their 
price, which happens to be one penny. This trio of 
instruments began to perform very creditably a sym- 
phony founded on Soldiers of the Queen, and there 
was a lull in the tumult to allow music-lovers to sati- 
ate themselves with the sweet strains. 

Later on a banjo was produced from under a 
thwart, and a vocal duet was given to the night, with 
this accompaniment. An enthusiastic passenger threw 
a sixpence into the boat and asked f or a ‘ ‘ coon song. ’ ’ 
I take it for granted that the assessment for this spe- 
cies of composition was correct; though to my think- 
ing it was rather excessive ; but after a consultation, 
involving much pursing of the lips and a vast display 
246 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


of ivory, word was passed up that the negro melodists 
had never heard of a “ coon song. ’ ’ 

I thought a good deal better of them from that 
moment. 

They gave us instead a curious entertainment 
which was exceedingly interesting to Professor Dug- 
dale and other students of heredity. It was a monkey 
pantomime. One of the artists, who had plainly in- 
herited a knowledge of many of the mannerisms of 
the jungle, crouched on all fours in the stern-sheets 
of the boat and then worked his way forward, keep- 
ing up a continuous play with an imaginary tail and 
throwing himself into a number of attitudes — “ Dis- 
tinctly reminiscent of arboreal antecedents , 9 9 Pro- 
fessor Dugdale affirmed them to be. For half an hour 
he was as amusing as one of his brethren, collater- 
ally descended from the same family tree, can be 
when tempted by nuts or by the illicit possession of 
a pair of pince-nez, or an ostrich-feather hastily 
snatched from an unprotected hat. 

A more natural performance I never saw — as a 
matter of fact it was just too natural to be altogether 
comfortable to the spectators ; and Professor Dugdale 
said that the most remarkable part of it was that it 
was extremely unlikely that the performer had ever 
seen a monkey in all his life. Perhaps he had not, 
but I know that he had many opportunities of seeing 
some colorable imitations of one. To make the illu- 
sion perfect he needed only the smallest amount of 
make-up. 


247 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

In a few hours we had weighed anchor once more 
and were shaping our course through a lapis-lazuli 
sea to St. Thomas, the Danish colony which was to 
mark the limits of our cruise round the northern 
islands. I felt that I for one should be glad of a few 
days’ rest to enable me to assimilate something of the 
scenery through which we had passed — something of 
the atmosphere of these islands. It occurred to me 
that we were doing too much. Montserrat, Antigua, 
Nevis, and St. Kitts all since morning ! I began to 
be conscious of an attack of what I may perhaps be 
pardoned for calling scenic dyspepsia. I have had a 
corresponding feeling of excess when as a boy I par- 
took of anything over two bottles of lemonade follow- 
ing anything over two ices. More recently a long day 
at the Academy has produced a corresponding impres- 
sion, only mental— the impression produced by the 
lemonade was not a mental one. I believe that it is 
a recognized malady and is catalogued as “ Academy 
headache. ’ ’ 

I was not the only one aboard the Amazon who 
was suffering. While we were watching the disap- 
pearance of St. Kitts, Mr. Gilbertson came beside me, 
and I saw that he was troubled about something. 

“ I am so sorry to bother you,” he said, “but I 
should be so much obliged if you would let me know 
what is the name of the last island that we have 
been to.” 

I told him that it was called St. Kitts. 

“ Are you quite sure? ” he asked after a puzzled 
248 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


pause. “ Well, I’m dashed! I thought it was Nevis. 
Where does Nevis come in — if we passed it in the 
night it was a swindle. Now, what islands did we 
really pass in the night ? I know that Dominica was 
one; but I can’t for the life of me remember the 
names of the others. There are too many islands in 
the West Indies — that’s what’s the matter with 
them. And I hear that there are others farther 
south! Good Lord! The place is overcrowded with 
islands. ’ ’ 

I agreed with him, and saw him safely through a 
green-lime squash to enable him to face another fort- 
night in the overcrowded Caribbean. 

It was Mrs. Heber whom I found in the deck-chair 
next to mine an hour later, when a good many of our 
shipmates had gone to their cabins. The congested 
state of the Caribbean Sea gave Mrs. Heber little 
trouble. Like the youth suspected of heretical ten- 
dencies, she subscribed to thirty-nine islands — and 
would have subscribed to forty if necessary. She had 
not the least idea of the names of those that she had 
seen ; and when I told her that we had yet to call at 
Borneo, Java, and Anticosti, she said: 

‘ ‘ Oh, really ! But surely Anticosti was the name 
of the one that we visited before we came to the other 
two — or was it three? Yes, it was Anticosti.” 

“ Not exactly,” said I. “ The one you are think- 
ing of is Antigua.” 

“ Oh, I thought that was short for Anticosti. Peo- 
ple say Frisco nowadays when they mean San Fran- 
249 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


cisco. The islands are lovely. Are there many more 
of them really? ” 

I thought of one Christopher Sly — old Sly’s son, 
of Burton Heath, whom Shakespeare created to voice 
a modern playgoer’s idea of Shakespearian drama: 

’Tis a very excellent piece of work — would ’twere 
done. ’ ’ 

I contented myself by assuring her that Borneo 
was said to be a beautiful island and very large, and 
that I hoped she would find the Philippines attrac- 
tive. 

“Iam sure that I shall : I like Americans, ’ ’ she 
replied. “ Cuba is the capital of the Philippines, is 
it not ? It was captured by President Roosevelt dur- 
ing the war. By the way, I wanted to talk to you 
about some of our fellow passengers.” 

I signified to her the delight that it would give 
me to hear anything to the detriment of a fellow pas- 
senger. She hastened to assure me that she did not 
wish to arouse false hopes within me : she would give 
no guarantee that what she was about to say was to 
the detriment of any one. 

“ Never mind,” I said. “Iam sure that I shall 
be interested even if you find it necessary to say noth- 
ing but what is good about any one. ’ ’ 

“I am not sure that it is altogether good,” said 
she. “ You shall judge. You have eaten of the Tree 
of Knowledge : you are in a position to judge between 
good and evil. The fact is that— that— well, I am 
sure that you must have seen how friendly Miss Croys- 
250 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


dale and Mr. Conrad have become within the past 
few days.” 

“ I am a poor hand at noticing these things, ’ ’ said 
I ; “ but if they have become friendly, where ’s the 
harm? Isn’t there a proverb which says something 
about friendliness being next to godliness? ” 

‘ ‘ That ’s all very well ; but if the girl allows her- 
self to fall in love with a man about whom we know 
nothing ” 

‘ ‘ But we know all about Conrad : he is one of the 
straightest bats in England and there’s no better 
wicket-keeper. ’ ’ 

‘ 4 Of course, if you choose to make fun of what you 
know to be a very serious thing you can go away. But 
I look on myself as in a measure the guardian — the 
temporary guardian — of Meta Croysdale, and if she 
should really allow herself to be carried away by this 
Mr. Conrad, I should never forgive myself.” 

Now, I really could not for the life of me see what 
the friendliness of Miss Croysdale and Mr. Conrad 
had to do with Mrs. Heber ; only, of course, I could not 
tell her so. What I had noticed with great interest 
was that Mr. Conrad had started by being extremely 
friendly with Mrs. Heber, and that he had lately 
transferred this extreme friendliness to Miss Croys- 
dale. 

“ It would be very pleasant — I mean sad — very 
sad — if Miss Croysdale allowed herself to be carried 
away by Conrad; but I don’t think that either of 
them would lay the blame at your door, even if their 
251 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

present rapprochement were to end in marriage, ” 
said I. 

Oh, that is the easy-going way in which you look 
at all these affairs ; but thank heaven I am a woman , 1 f 
she cried. You shrug your shoulders and pass on. 
You would not put out a hand to save a fellow 
creature from — from ’ ’ 

“ From a happy marriage? ” 

“ Is there ^ch a thing as a happy marriage? ” 

“ Ah > now you are going to talk about the feet 
of clay.” 

She became slightly irritated. I had no idea that 
she placed so high a value on the friendliness of Mr. 
Conrad. 

^ I am disappointed in you,” she said. “ I felt 
sure that you would see this matter with my eyes. 
Think of that girl— a very nice girl she is— she has 
no mother— she comes in all innocence— who is there 
to tell her that men— that even a good-looking young 
fellow like Mr. Conrad ... to be sure he may think 
that a little flirtation ... ah, it means so little to 
the man ! But should I not say a word of warning 
to her? Should I not stretch out a hand to save her? 
Do I not stand in the position of a mother to her— 
tell me that? ” 

If you feel that you do, you may be sure that 
you do,” said I. “ You are a very kind-hearted 
woman, my dear Mrs. Iieber. And I feel so flattered 
at your coming to consult with me that I have no hesi- 
tation in offering you my opinion, which is that if you 
252 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

feel yourself in the place of a mother, you should 
do what a good mother would do in the circum- 
stances.’ ’ 

‘ And what would she do in the circumstances ? ’ ’ 
“ She would do nothing.” 

That is a man’s counsel. There is a cynical 
shrug of the shoulders in every word of it. Do noth- 
ing? I take it for granted that the girl is wealthy — 
she travels with her maid— six trunks— I think it 
would have been more discreet of her if she had en- 
gaged a companion— but she is undoubtedly wealthy 
just the sort of girl that an unprincipled adventurer 
is on the lookout for. Just think of the risk in it all ! 
And yet you can advise me to sit tight and do nothing. 
Of course, I don t say that Mr. Conrad is an adven- 
turer; still he is — a man.” 

That last is all that a good mother in Philistia 
would take into account. He is a man and every man 
is a possible husband, and a possible husband is the 
best possible thing for a marriageable daughter.” 

“ That is the generally accepted notion. I don’t 
say that it is wrong. But I do say that it is the hold- 
ing of such a theory that brings misery to so many 
girls. My mother married me when I was seventeen. 

I had four sisters — she was getting anxious about our 
future. I do not say that she had not the best in- 
tentions. ’ ’ 

And on the whole you have been very happy ; 
now, have you not ? ’ ’ 

“ Well, I dare say. But is it not monstrous that 

253 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


before a girl can know anything of the world — any- 
thing of men and their ways, she should be sent into 
the slavery of marriage? ” 

“ It is a very shocking way of attaining complete 
happiness . 9 ’ 

“ Complete happiness? I wonder if any woman 
knows what is meant by complete happiness? ” 

‘ ‘ I often wonder what she would do with it if she 
had it.” 

“ She would cherish it — cherish it — cherish it! ” 

“ No, she would look out for a man to share it 
with, and she would cherish him. That’s what she 
would do if it were possible for her to know perfect 
happiness apart from a man.” 

Mrs. Heber gave a scornful laugh, and with a pro- 
testing wave of a very shapely arm, walked away. 
When she had gone a few steps, she turned her head 
only with a very pleasant “ Good night.” 

I tried to impart to my response the same spirit 
as that which I had detected (I thought) in her atti- 
tude, but I was conscious of a tolerably complete fail- 
ure, and so was she. She threw over her shoulder at 
me the pleasant little laugh of one who has got the 
better of another, and I felt sure that she would sleep 
soundly. 

All that she had said quite interested me. Indeed, 
I never had a chat with Mrs. Heber without feeling 
the better for it. She invariably — sometimes imper- 
ceptibly as well — led the conversation on to a higher 
level than that on which she found it. When people 
254 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

were talking politics and religion and things of that 
sort, she drew them on to talk or to hear her talk on 
the text of the Lonely Woman, or it might he, the 
Heart of a Girl. If one did not learn a great deal 
from her it was entirely one’s own fault. 

Just now I felt that what I had learned from her 
was that even a woman who is sure of her position as 
one who interests all men, may become piqued if any 
one man wavers in his allegiance to her. She who 
could, so to speak, keep a complete eleven fielding for 
her for days together, was annoyed because a single 
wicket-keeper had treated her with a less amount of 
attention than he had previously shown to her. 

It certainly showed culpable carelessness on the 
part of young Conrad to pay attention to Miss Crovs- 
dale when Mrs. Heber was on deck, more especially 
as Mrs. Heber had taken up Miss Croysdale. I fancy 
that Mrs. Heber had a notion that I would give a hint 
or two to Conrad to the effect that his attitude in re- 
spect of the younger lady was causing remark, and 
indeed it may have been so : a man can never say ex- 
actly how much of a fool he seems in the eye of a 
woman. But whatever I may have seemed to so prac- 
tised a person as Mrs. Heber, I rather thought that 
I could trust myself to refrain from giving even the 
vaguest hint to Conrad on the matter suggested by 
Mrs. Heber. If I sought to make him certain that I 
was a fool, I should do so through another channel. 

But here was another incipient romance unfolding 
itself — a rose-blossom of romance bursting into blos- 
255 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

som, under my eyes. If many others were blooming 
in the same garden I should become embarrassed be- 
fore long. It was too great a strain on any horticul- 
turist to pay conscientious attention to so prolific a 
rosery. 

Some consolation came to me from the reflection 
that the buds would become blossoms whether I paid 
attention to them or not. 


256 


CHAPTER XIX 


The next morning the Amazon steamed into the 
best harbor we had yet seen in the West Indies, 
and dropped anchor opposite the town of Charlotte 
Amalia, the capital of St. Thomas. Like Jerusalem, 
Edinburgh, Cork, and a few other great cities, Char- 
lotte Amalia is built upon hills. The houses climb 
some distance up each of the three slopes which meet 
in the hollow of the bay, and one can see without much 
trouble that there is no better built town in any of 
the islands. Most of the houses visible from the ship 
are large, and all have bright red roofs. There is a 
Swiss chalet look about some of them, but others are 
more palatial — more like a London suburban villa, 
which, I need scarcely say, is one of the most beautiful 
things that exist in architecture. 

By far the most imposing object seen from the 
ship is a long red building some way up one of the 
slopes : it is, we learn, the prison. Its dimensions sug- 
gest an amount of criminality which inspires respect ; 
but, alas! our informant assures us that the people 
of the island have never been able to see their way 
to take full advantage of the privileges offered to 
them by the designer of the place. Its emptiness seems 
to be a constant reproach to the authorities just now ; 
257 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

but as it is taken for granted that the purchase of 
the island by the United States will be completed, 
they should not lose heart : with renewed prosperity 
under the United States, a new wing may have to 
be added to the prison. 

Another interesting building seen from the steam- 
er takes the form of a turret attached to a villa high 
up on the slope. We are courteously informed that 
this is all that remains of the stronghold of the noted 
pirate who terrorized these waters under the name 
of Blackbeard. We are quite content to accept with- 
out demur any statement that tends to put us in touch 
with the good old days. Up to the present we have 
seen nothing among the islands to suggest the exist- 
ence of one period of the industry which put thousands 
of pounds into the coffers of the publishers of romance 
— not necessarily pirated editions. 

A cable’s length from our vessel there is a float- 
ing coaling-dock and a steamer of probably a thou- 
sand tons is being supplied in the usual style from 
some huge stacks. A Danish cruiser is at her moor- 
ings quite close to the shore ; an American bark, and 
two smaller vessels are in the bay, but this represents 
the full tale of the shipping at this port where, a hun- 
dred and fifty years ago, when Alexander Hamilton 
landed, there were considerably over a hundred mer- 
chant ships! 

Nothing tends more strongly to make us aware of 
the decay of these islands than such a record of past 
prosperity. Miss Atherton tells us in her fascinating 
258 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


biographical romance that when Hamilton landed at 
St. Thomas he found the streets crowded with people, 
all doing business from early morning till late at 
night — indeed, it is hinted that there was no cessa- 
tion of trade at the coming on of night. But when 
I sailed ashore in the ship ’s long-boat, I had certainly 
no difficulty in walking through the streets. I was 
in no way inconvenienced by the traffic. On the little 
wharf there were about a dozen negroes, and strolling 
up from the landing-place to the principal street I 
met with as many more. The place seemed even more 
moribund than Montserrat. St. John, Antigua, was, 
by comparison, a great commercial center. 

But when I was turning out of the little square, 
where there is a small public garden, I found that I 
might have had a choice of half a dozen buggies had I 
wushed to explore the island. This was at last a sign 
of enterprise. The principal street contains several 
shops of enormous dimensions, but with no more stock 
than called for a tenth of their accommodation. I 
entered two or three to make some small purchases, 
and I am bound to say that I met with none but in- 
telligent people behind the counters. They all spoke 
English — it seemed to me that they had never spoken 
any other language ; all the trade announcements were 
in English; the only words of Danish that came un- 
der my notice were the names of the streets. I began 
to think that it was perhaps time that St. Thomas 
changed its flag. 

That is the conclusion to which the people of Char- 

259 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

lotte Amalia have come also. I never heard a saner 
view expressed on any “ crisis ” than that which was 
held by the majority of the inhabitants of the town 
with whom I conversed respecting the proposed sale 
of the island to the Americans. The name of St. 
Thomas is suggestive of doubt, but no one with whom 
I came in contact was dubious of the advantages likely 
to accrue from the transaction. At the same time 
no one seemed to cherish any illusions on the subject. 
It was never suggested that affluence might be the im- 
mediate result of the transfer. The consensus of opin- 
ion amounted to this: 11 We are a poor people; Den- 
mark is a poor country, and can not afford to keep 
a man-of-war in our harbor and a garrison at the 
fort. We think that to be under the flag of a rich 
country such as the United States is certain to be 
to the advantage of the island eventually. Capital 
is sure to be brought here, and our industries will 
once more be placed on a paying basis. But it is with 
great regret that we find the change of flag to be nec- 
essary. W e have the warmest affection for Denmark. ’ ’ 

I made inquiry as to the effect already produced 
upon the trade of the island by the prospect of the 
transference. There is no Stock Exchange at Char- 
lotte Amalia, so that I could not judge by reference 
to such a barometer; but I learned that there had 
been a little speculating in land and house property, 
but scarcely any advance in prices had been shown. ’ 
In a word, it may be said that, while it would be 
going too far to state that the people are enthusiastic 
260 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


at the prospect of becoming American citizens, it 
would not be going far enough to suggest that they 
are merely reconciled to the change. 

Since my visit, however, the proposals for the 
transfer of the island have fallen through. There 
really never was any eagerness shown in the business. 
The States reckoned that it could get on for a while 
longer without St. Thomas, and Denmark felt that 
getting rid of St. Thomas was like selling her silver 
teaspoons. As for the people of the island, it may, 
I think, be taken for granted that they will bear up 
against the hardship of remaining unsold for another 
term of years. 

Everywhere at St. Thomas I noticed the superior- 
ity of the negro population over that of any of the 
other islands. They are more civil and less self-as- 
sertive than any with which I came in contact. The 
women, too, are better dressed — not gaudily but neat- 
ly, and their packing-case houses are absolutely spot- 
less ; so -was the bed-linen which I inspected at the 
invitation of a prominent inhabitant who gave me a 
great deal of information, and begged of me to put 
some of the statements to the test. This same person 
also assured me that the real cause of the decay of 
West Indian sugar was the simplest one that could 
be imagined: it was neither more nor less than the 
indolence of all concerned in the manufacture. The 
sugar-growers allowed their business to look after it- 
self, he said; they were content to work with their 
old machinery until it dropped to pieces, and they 
261 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


took to borrowing money on the crop before it was 
ready to cut. I have no reason to think that his in- 
formation on this point was less accurate than that 
which he gave to me on other matters connected with 
the social economy of the West Indies. 

I wondered if it was the borrowing powers of the 
planters of St. Thomas that made a Jewish cemetery 
a necessity on the island. But for that matter the Jews 
have for several centuries played an important part 
in the West Indies and on the Spanish Main. As 
soon as they were expelled from a European state 
numbers of them crossed the Atlantic. In Brazil they 
became a power and in St. Thomas, so far as I can 
gather, they were the mainstay of the buccaneering 
industry. When a pirate ship put into the harbor 
richly laden with spoil, a Jew was always found ready 
to buy a portion of the plunder at his own valuation. 
It is not surprising in these circumstances that St. 
Thomas became the residence of many wealthy He- 
brews. 

Taking a buggy drive of three or four miles along 
the base of the highest slope I came upon the Hebrew 
cemetery, and also one for Gentiles of all faiths. Both 
seemed crowded: but my informant assured me with 
a sigh, that there had been a great falling off in the 
mortality during recent years, though there were some 
inhabitants who could recollect the former glories of 
the place when no day passed without its funeral. 
Those were the good old days when Yellow Jack was 
the most important name in the West Indies. 

262 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


What made the greatest change in the health of 
this island was the removal of a small shoal which 
prevented the free circulation of the water in the har- 
bor. The engineering needed for the making of a 
free passage through what is called Water Island, was 
insignificant, but the effect which it had upon the 
sanitation of the place was extraordinary, and at pres- 
ent epidemics are unknown at St. Thomas. 

This is the ideal pirate’s island. One day I got a 
buggy and drove straight across the slope to the la- 
goon, and here for the first time I recognized the to- 
pography of the typical romance of buccaneering. 
For a mile or two we drove along an excellent road, 
and then gradually ascending, we got upon a river- 
bed skirting one of the ninety large estates which were 
at one time being worked on the island. Higher up 
still we drove through a splendid avenue that some- 
how suggested the aromatics of an apothecary’s shop 
— it was of turpentine-trees. Farther on we passed 
some plantations of sugar-cane ; but the cane as treat- 
ed here is good for nothing — children amuse them- 
selves with it — that is all. On this road we came upon 
a Moravian school, standing in the middle of an un- 
tilled garden. 

A gradual descent brought us to the eastern side 
of the island, and we drove for a mile along a mango- 
brake and suddenly came upon what seemed to me 
to be an inland lake. Here we found a couple of 
negroes in the worst boat that I had ever risked my 
life in since the days of my boyhood when anything 
263 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


that would float was accepted by me as a practicable 
vessel. We were rowed clear of the sand-bank that 
formed one of the boundaries of the piece of wafer, 
and then we were in the lagoon. 

Far away we could see the waves breaking upon 
the reef, but the water on which we were floating was 
calm and transparent as an emerald. Just where it 
began to be shallow pelicans by the score were fishing. 
On one side there was a mango-brake and at the other 
the low point of the island, blue sky over it and blue 
waters trembling at its base. When we landed on 
the sand and the negro boatmen went before us clear- 
ing a track through the dense growth of mangoes 
with machetes, we could not but feel that we were 
at last on the shore of the pirate’s romance. It was 
on just such a spot as this that Captain Kidd landed 
and buried his treasure. It was surely not far away 
from the island where Captain Flint — he is more real 
to us than Kidd or Morgan — buried his bar silver and 
pieces of eight, after killing the six men whom he had 
brought with him. I looked out to the reef, feeling 
sure that I should see the schooner Walrus keeping 
off and on, waiting for the return of her captain, Darby 
Magraw fetching aft the rum to Mr. William Bones, 
probably with as much regularity as if the mate were 
Captain Flint himself. 

The rough obelisk of rock which we reached after 
a tough fight with the mangoes — the result of a land- 
slip or possibly of one of the many earthquakes to 
which St. Thomas has been subject — would certainly 
264 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

have made a most excellent bearing for any one bury- 
ing treasure. It seems to have been planted there 
especially for buccaneers of a thrifty nature. 

But a much more useful pirates’ lair is in Krom 
Bay on the western shore of St. Thomas. We sailed 
there in the steamer’s yawl one afternoon, making 
the passage between low islands of sand covered with 
scrub. A more perfect harbor for small vessels could 
not be imagined. The water is shallow but the anchor- 
age is good, and the bay is practically landlocked. 
Here in the old days I have no doubt that many a 
piratical schooner lurked, its whereabouts being un- 
known to all the world outside this enchanting haven 
of high banks and groves of palm. 

At the deepest part of the hollow of the little bay 
we found a depository of broken-up ships that com- 
pleted its uncanny appearance. Here were old masts 
and spars by the dozen, coils of wire rope, chain haw- 
sers, kedge anchors, ships’ bells, binnacles, cooks’ gal- 
leys, and side-lights. The sloping white sand was 
strewed with these things, and under a group of the 
noblest coconut-palms I ever saw, there were two deck- 
houses of different heights which apparently were 
occupied by the caretakers or the proprietor of these 
treasures — the job lots of Clarence’s Dream. 

To find oneself among these things at such a place 
was like being behind the scenes of a theater where 
a piratical drama is in course of production. Noth- 
ing looked real. The palms had the appearance of 
being painted on canvas and ‘ ‘ profiled, ’ ’ as the stage- 
265 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


carpenters call the process of cutting-out, and the sky 
and sea were quite of a scene-painter ’s blue. I learned 
that it was here that vessels were taken to be broken 
up when they had been condemned by the agent of 
Lloyd’s. I also learned that at one time it was quite 
possible to make a decent fortune by breaking up ships. 
In those days a ship that was “ fully covered ” had 
only to meet with a trifling accident to be condemned 
by some easy-going surveyor. The breaking-up proc- 
ess followed naturally, and it is quite plain that who- 
so bought a sound and well-found ship at scrap price, 
made a pretty fair sum by the transaction. Now, 
however, the underwriters get a cablegram, telling 
that a ship is disabled, and they send a responsible 
agent out to examine her by the next mail steamer. 
Thus it is that the breaking-up trade is not what it 
was, and marine surveyors no longer make fortunes. 

Krom Bay was the Execution Dock of the con- 
demned ship, and these “ lots ” were the relics of the 
days when a pirate, having flown the Jolly Roger 
for some years, joined the less exciting branch of the 
same profession and became a marine survevor. 

The sun sank while we wandered about the shore 
at this strange place. In the soft purple twilight the 
shrill metallic whistle of the tree-lizards sounded from 
every part of the shore unceasingly. Every now and 
again a fish splashed out of the water. The brake 
was alight with fireflies and curious luminous beetles. 
Some of our party were driving back to the town, but 
I had made up my mind not to quit our boat, though 
266 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

the breeze was very light. With a moderate amount 
of luck I might escape the dance which was arranged 
for this night. 

I strolled through a marvelous avenue of palms 
with a mahogany-tree beyond; but I had not gone 
far before I found myself looking through the trees 
into a broad and comparatively open space. Many 
of the palms had been cut down here, but those that 
were standing assisted the twilight in making the 
place dim. It was this weird dimness that caused me 
to start, for I perceived that the place was crowded 
with ghosts — the first that I had ever seen in my life. 
There they stood, white and silent, about the clearing, 
and two or three glimmering among the trunks of the 
palms beyond. 

At first I took them to be my fellow passengers, 
but I soon corrected this impression; my fellow pas- 
sengers had not accustomed themselves to remain mo- 
tionless for any length of time, and these were as 
rigid as if they had suddenly become paralyzed. Some 
had their arms stretched out toward me as if implor- 
ing me to-help them — it was not so dim as to make 
it impossible for me to see distinctly their outstretched 
white arms. Others were leaning their seemingly 
weary bodies against the trunks of the palms; one 
was prostrate on the ground, and one — horrible to 
see — was headless. 

There they stood in this strange haunt with the 
tall, moveless palms above them, the purple dimness 
of the tropical twilight about them, and no sound in 
267 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


the air save only the occasional whisper of a ripple 
on the beach, the little splash of a fish in the bay, and 
the continuous quivering metallic chirrup of the tree- 
lizards. There they stood, the ghosts of the old buc- 
caneers who had made this place their rendezvous for 
year after year of their life. 

I must confess that for some moments I experi- 
enced all the pleasurable horror which I understand 
comes to such persons as are so fortunate as to be 
gifted with ghost-sight. I was not conscious of being 
in any way afraid ; I only felt that it was given to me 
to see the strangest sight of my life. Unfortunately, 
this feeling was followed by an instinct of the literary 
possibilities derivable from such a source. The ghosts 
of the old pirates recalling their experiences in the 
Caribbean and along the Spanish Main — there was a 
theme, and it was given to me to work it out. I 
thought in a flash of the great names among the rovers 
— Morgan and Kidd and Bonnet and Blackbeard — 
famous for infamy. What would the ghosts of these 
splendid desperadoes have to talk about when they 
came together again with the falling of the night upon 
the coconut-palms, upon the mahogany-trees, upon 
the spreading mangoes, upon the contortions of the 
mangroves — with the never-ending chirrup of the tree- 
lizards from shoreway and island? 

I had allowed my fancy to carry me on for some 
time before I became aware of the fact that I was 
standing gazing at a scattered group of ancient figure- 
heads — the figureheads of the ships which had in past 
268 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

days been brought to the place to be broken up. And 
now, of course, I wondered how it was that I had 
failed to see at first what manner of specters were 
these. But indeed they looked altogether spectral in 
the evening dimness— in their imposing attitudes— 
in their marvelous outlines. 

I went through the trees among them. Here was 
a towering virago with big rings in her ears, and a 
double flowing mantle which bore the marks of the 
bolts which had secured the garment to the bows ; and 
not far off there was a one-armed male figure that 
might have been an effigy of Nelson. Three females 
of voluptuous charms amply displayed, but well with- 
in the bounds of prudence — in art decorum and dec- 
oration do not always go hand in hand — stood coyly 
among the trees. A gigantic Highlander whose hand 
retained only the hilt of his claymore, was in the act 
of lurching his way toward a lady with six feet of 
flowing tresses who was waiting for him in the open ; 
just behind him stood the headless figure ; the work of 
decapitation had overtaxed the strength of the clay- 
more. 

These were but a few of the derelict figureheads 
which were standing about me waiting, as doubtless 
they had waited for years, for purchasers. The mar- 
ket for figureheads can not have been very brisk at 
the island of St. Thomas or purchasers may have be- 
come fastidious through the development of art-teach- 
ing, for the undergrowth about nearly all of them 
was dense, and creepers had entwined themselves up 
18 269 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


the drapery of some — nature’s drapery concealing 
that of the carver and gilder. If left without atten- 
tion for another year or two, only the heads of the 
tallest would appear above the green sea of vegeta- 
tion, as they had appeared in the days of their active 
life above the green seas that broke beneath them 
under the impact of the cutwater of the ships whose 
bows they adorned. 

I was standing with my hands in my pockets silent- 
ly examining these strange creations, when I heard 
the sound of voices quite close. I knew that some of 
my party had discovered the place and were about to 
investigate it. I was right. I saw two figures in white 
coming toward me ; but I did not at once perceive that 
they were hand in hand. 

‘ 4 The funniest thing I ever saw : just like ghosts ! ’ ’ 
came the voice of Miss Ormsby. ‘ ‘ Look at this mag- 
nificent creature, Charlie.” 

They were standing together at this time looking 
up to the face of the gigantic female figure. 

“ A magnificent creature indeed,” said Mr. Jaf- 
fray. “ But for my part, I prefer something more 
petite — more like ” 

In an instant he had flung an arm about her, and 
I heard the low laugh of the girl who has been kissed 
by her lover. 

“You are too daring,” said Miss Ormsby in a 
whisper. ‘ 1 Some of the others are sure to come upon 
this place returning to the boat. Well, only one 
more.” 


270 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Before he had taken more than a dozen or so, and 
while their faces were still together, I had slipped 
behind the lurching Highlander and thence on to the 
avenue of palms. The foolish young couple had 
plainly taken me for one of the figureheads and had 
walked straight toward me, only stopping for a sweet 
moment before the most imposing of the scattered 
group. 

The moment that I regained the avenue I began 
to hum something idiotic, and before I had taken a 
dozen steps onward I met Mr. Ormsby. He had clear- 
ly just caught a glimpse through the dimness of the 
most outlying of the figures — the carved figures, not 
the others. He was addressing the one that he saw. 

“ What’s the matter? ” he said. “ Are you wait- 
ing for any one? ” 

Receiving no answer, he continued : 

“ Who the deuce are you? I can’t make out your 
features from here. Do you mean to play the ghost? 
Take my advice and don’t. The ladies may be com- 
ing through this way. Come, like a good chap now : 
I’m older than you.” 

“ Oh, no, you’re not,” said I, approaching him. 

“ Oh, you’re there? ” he said. “ Perhaps you’re 
in this game. It’s not a funny one. Show me a man 
that plays the ghost and I’ll show you one that plays 
the fool. Look here, old chap, we have had enough 
of that, haven’t we? ” 

He had turned to the figurehead once more and 
was remonstrating with it. 

271 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I could not help roaring with laughter. 

“ I can’t for the life of me see where the fun 
comes in,” said he in a slightly offended tone. “ A 
joke is a joke, but that ” 

“ Is the figurehead of a ship,” said I. “ The 
place is full of figureheads of ships that have been 
broken up.” 

“You don’t say so! ” he cried. “ Good Lord! I 
took it for one of our party skylarking. Now, how 
was any one to tell in this light — my word ! * 1 

He gave a chuckle, leaving the avenue and step- 
ping into the cleared space, before I could think of 
a way of preventing him. I felt that I had once more 
unconsciously been playing the part of a spy upon 
the young people, so that I owed it to them to prevent 
their being discovered by the father. To be sure, they 
had a minute in which they might possibly have es- 
caped if they had known exactly where he was 
standing, but I had seen no movement among the 
palms. 

“ My word ! ” exclaimed Mr. Ormsby again, stand- 
ing beside his figurehead, and gazing across the clear- 
ing at the others. 

I breathed again. The lovers must have made 
good their escape. 

I went to Mr. Ormsby ’s side. The position com- 
manded the whole group. There they were — the vira- 
go goddess, the giddy ladies with opulent charms, the 
headless warrior and the bloodthirsty Highlander — 
there they were, only more dimly seen by this time, 
272 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


for five minutes make a considerable difference in a 
tropical twilight — there they were, only 

Close to the gigantic female with the flowing robes 
were two figures which I had not noticed before." One 
was of a man — it was just light enough for me to see 
that the arms were folded; the other was a slim fe- 
male figure, wearing a sailor-hat and with her arms 
stretched out above her head as if in the act of taking 
a header. 

“ Upon my word, these are about the rummiest 
things that I have seen for a long time,” remarked 
Mr. Ormsby, his eyes wandering from one glimmering 
white figure to another. “ Look at that big bounder 
with his arms out. I wonder what ship he sailed on. 
And the females — none of your pinching stays about 
them. ’ ’ 

“ I don’t suppose that their ships ever missed their 
stays, ’ ’ said I ; but I was too nautical for this gentle- 
man from the Midlands. 

“ Is that a fireman? oh, no; only a Highlander,” 
he continued. “ And look at the one without the 
head. I remember reading a book when I was an 
apprentice called The Headless Horseman. Maybe 
that was the name of the ship he came off. And look 
at that thin one going in for a dive — that’s a good 
one, only roughly carved — on the bows of a ship she 
would be taking a dive into every heavy sea.” 

“Yes,” I said. “ A capital notion. I suppose 
the carvers of these things have now and then a good 
idea. But I agree with you that the sculptor of that 
273 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

one was a bit of a duffer. She looks as if she wore 
stays. ’ ’ 

“ Just my idea! She might be a modern young 
lady,” said the father of Miss Ormsby with a fine 
note of derision. 

He was about to stroll among the figures when I 
cried : 

“ Hullo! Is that the boatswain hailing us? I 
think we should lose no time in scrambling down to 
the lugger. I fancy that we have delayed too long 
already. Where is Miss Ormsby? ” 

“ That’s just what I should like to know,” said 
he. “ I left her with young Jaffray at the side of 
the deck-house: I wanted to see if I could not buy 
one of the old ships’ bells as a souvenir. She must 
have misunderstood me when I said that I would 
rejoin them on the beach: she had a notion that she 
could pick up some rare shells. I’m afraid that she 
will be huffed with me for leaving her with Jaffray, 
though I will say that she is not so hostile to him as 
she used to be. Have you noticed that? ” 

I laughed. 

“ I certainly have not noticed any great hostility 
to him on her part,” I said. “ I dare say we shall 
find them both waiting for you alongside the boat.” 

I had no trouble whatsoever in leading him away 
from that grove of graven images — and others; for 
he showed no wish to investigate farther than he had 
done. Only once when we had pushed our way to 
where the gleam of bright water appeared through 
274 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

the space between the palms, he gave another chuckle, 
saying : 

“ My word! wasn’t it a bit rummy my talking 
to that figurehead ? Do you mind giving me a chance 
of telling that against myself? I’ll amuse them all 
with it, you bet.” 

I assured him that I should never think of claim- 
ing copyright in the incident, and he thanked me for 
my forbearance. 


275 


CHAPTER XX 


When we got to the little wharf — it was a floating 
landing-stage like the one at Liverpool, only not so 
large, being composed only of three old masts lashed 
together — we found that Mr. Jaffray and Miss Orms- 
by were not there. Of course we were both greatly 
surprised; but I think that Mr. Ormsby was rather 
more so than myself. Mrs. Heber and young Conrad 
had also not yet appeared. Mrs. Heber was doing 
her best to discharge the duties of a conscientious 
chaperon to Meta Croysdale, by taking charge of the 
man who, she feared, might be trifling with Miss 
Croysdale ’s affections: if any affections were to be 
trifled with, Mrs. Heber preferred that they should 
be her own. 

But even while we were discussing the best way 
of calling the attention of the defaulters, Miss Ormsby 
appeared by the side of Conrad, followed by Jaffray 
and Mrs. Heber. 

And they all somehow conveyed the impression to 
the others of the party that the four of them had 
never been farther apart during the afternoon than 
they were when we caught a glimpse of them march- 
ing down to the boat. 

Mrs. Heber said : 

4 1 How quickly the darkness comes on here ! I 
276 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


wish we had asked yon sooner what o’clock it was, 
Mr. Jaffray. I hope you were not uneasy about your 
daughter, Mr. Ormsby? ” 

“ Oh, not the least,” said Mr. Ormsby, glibly. 
“ I knew that she would be quite safe under your 
eye, Mrs. Heber.” 

And the girl was smiling quite sweetly while she 
apologized for keeping the boat waiting ! 

I threw myself into the bow of the boat and began 
to smoke, laughing silently while I reflected upon the 
incidents of the evening — at the start which I had 
given on coming suddenly on the specters of the grove 
— at the sweet unconsciousness of the two young peo- 
ple in walking toward me while I stood watching them 
— at the surprise of Mr. Ormsby on catching sight of 
the outstanding figurehead — at the marvelous adroit- 
ness of the simple young couple in throwing them- 
selves into sculpturesque attitudes, so that Mr. Ormsby 
was deceived, and, finally, at Mrs. Heber ’s readiness 
in giving us all to understand that she and young 
Conrad had never been apart from the other two, 
when they positively could not have been together for 
a longer space than five minutes. 

I felt as I suppose a child must feel who looks on 
this world for the first time. I felt that I had never 
seen anything of the world, worth talking about up to 
that moment. I came to the conclusion that it was a 
place of infinite amusement, but I was greatly annoyed 
at Myra Ormsby and her lover for having forced me 
for the second time into the odious position of a secret 
277 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


onlooker. I felt that I could be annoyed with her 
with a clear conscience, having by my tact with her 
father averted a contretemps ; for he would most cer- 
tainly have continued his investigations of the statu- 
ary and have discovered their poses plastiques. 

But then the possibility was suggested to me that 
it might have been the intention of the girl to be dis- 
covered by her father in the pose of a ship’s figure- 
head ; and if that was so, she would not feel particu- 
larly grateful to me for spoiling what would undoubt- 
edly have been a very funny situation. 

Upon due reflection, however, I came to the con- 
clusion that the girl and her young man had no wish 
to be discovered in their fooling. For reasons of her 
own, Myra Ormsby wanted her father to believe that 
she was still in love with the man whom she had left 
behind her in England, although for some time past 
she had accepted the attentions of the man whom 
her father had chosen for her, and she did not wish 
the latter to suspect that she was looking upon Mr. 
Jaffray with favor. 

Now, ever since I had seen her through the broad 
banana-foliage at St. Lucia, I had avoided Miss Orms- 
by so far as I could without being absolutely rude to 
her, the fact being that no one could maintain any 
sentimental interest in a girl who could, with such 
indecorous haste, be on with a new love before she 
was off with the old. 

I had, as I have already chronicled, said to myself 
while thinking of her escapade: “ Oh, woman — 
278 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


woman! ” and it would obviously be impossible for 
a man to remain on the same terms as ever with a 
girl after she had forced him to say, “ Oh, woman 
— woman! ” 

But worse than all, she had deceived me, giving me 
to understand just three days before we arrived at 
St. Lucia that her affections were fixed upon the man 
from whom she had been rudely parted, while at that 
very moment, she must at least have been looking with 
an eye of favor upon the new love. I might forgive 
her for a good deal — for having made a fool of her 
father — for having made a fool of her lover, but never 
for having made a fool of me. 

I resolved to be more distant with her than ever, 
and never again to get on confidential terms with a 
girl who had such sweet and trustful eyes. After 
•making this resolution I muttered, mournfully shak- 
ing my head , il Oh, woman — woman! and then gave 
all my attention to my smoking. 

The evening was an exquisite one. The breeze was 
gentle, but it was quite strong enough to keep our 
sails full. We slipped through phosphorescent rip- 
ples, by the side of the little sand-islands, which ob- 
scured our view of the open sea only to increase the 
effect when we slid athwart a channel that gave us a 
lovely glimpse of a rising moon and a world of waters 
on which the golden flakes of moonlight fell. In the 
other quarter of the sky, over the steel-blue shadowy 
slope of St. Thomas, a splendid planet was burning 

a cut topaz set in a plaque of enamel, translucid as 

279 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


a sapphire. All the sky was sapphire, and all the rip- 
ples that quivered between shore and shore were like 
bluebells floating by the thousand. The slope of the 
island had shred bluebells into the water — fields of 
bluebells, with here and there a quivering flower of 
flaming laburnum — for the reflection of the lights of 
the villas on the mount fell upon the rippling waters 
like a laburnum bough. 

We arrived all too soon (for me) at the steamer, 
and some among us grumbled, saying that they should 
never be able to dress in time for the dance. 

When the time came, however, it seemed that they 
had underestimated their own powers : there was little 
sign of scamping their toilets, although as a matter 
of fact they had only a fraction over an hour to spend 
in their cabins. Mrs. and Miss Baker, who had not 
left the ship all the day, and so had a start of several 
hours on the majority of their fellow passengers, alone 
were late. But when we saw their dresses we admitted 
that such a result was not obtainable except at the 
sacrifice of a large amount of time as well as money. 
Their costumes, compared with the next in grandeur 
to be seen on deck, were as the masterpiece of Titian 
is to the pictures that surround it in the Royal Gal- 
lery at Venice — as the Don Giovanni is to all other 
operas of melody. They were very striking and the 
attempt made by the wearers to appear quite at their 
ease in the midst of such surroundings, was a not 
unexpected failure, though they were greatly talked 
about. 


280 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I confessed to Mrs. Heber that I thought them 
very fine. 

“ Yes/’ she said, critically, “ fine — they draw it 
very fine. They are just a little too — too — you un- 
derstand? ” 

I fancied that I was not wholly ignorant of her 
meaning. 

“You suggest that the line drawn between some- 
thing and something else in their costumes is a very 
fine one? ” I said. 

“ Just that, and perhaps a little more,” she re- 
plied. “ The fact is, you see ...” 

“ Oh, yes; we can all see; but, after all, the por- 
traits of the Restoration beauties ” 

“ Oh, they were beauties, were they not? ” 

“ They were all ladies of the highest reputation 
— for beauty, and they enriched the peerage by the 
addition of several great names.” 

“ I don’t think that these decollete reputations — 
but of course, so near the Line as we are at pres- 
ent ...” 

“ Now, you suggest that Miss Baker’s dress is 
rather over the Line ? ’ ’ 

“ Oh, no, only . . .” 

Well, we agreed that the Bakers’ costumes were 
magnificently inappropriate. They might have been 
worn with distinction in the sanctity of a painter’s 
studio and would probably appeal to the cultured eyes 
of a sculptor — they might have been considered the 
perfection of appropriateness in one of the scenes in 
281 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


the opera of Manon, but on the high seas they seemed 
lacking in material in some parts and excessive in 
others. 

The officers of the Danish man-of-war and those 
of the fort came aboard for this function; and gave 
us an illustration of what good manners really 
are. If we had been the representatives of a great 
Power entertaining them at a State Ball, they could 
not have shown a greater appreciation of our little 
dance. 

They showed themselves to be as courageous as 
they were courteous: one of them danced with Miss 
Baker. I saw another of them listening with a po- 
litely simulated interest while Major Heber assured 
him that General Buller had never done worse than 
make an ass of himself — or better. 

“ Don’t you believe anything that you read in 
these pro-Boer rags,” I heard him say. “ Take my 
word for it, Buller is a badly used man. Brave? 
My dear sir, he never knew what fear was. I tell 
you that I served under him. I’ll stand up for him; 
there are plenty of others who will be only too ready 
to abuse him.” 

Mr. Fraser, who had delivered his lecture on Solo- 
mon’s Temple to a select audience ashore on the pre- 
vious evening, was very anxious to wind up the dance 
with an address on the Lighting and Ventilation of 
Noah’s Ark — a subject which he said he had prac- 
tically made his own; but after some consultation it 
was found that, owing to the position in which the 
282 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


piano had been placed on deck, it would be impossible 
to suspend the sheet for the dissolving views. He 
assured me that we had missed the chance of our 
lives of becoming acquainted with the details of a 
subject to which sufficient attention had never been 
given by the Universities. 

The next day I paid a farewell visit to the tower 
which goes under the name of Blackboard’s Castle. 
It is at the rear of a very charming villa, the gardens 
of which contain a great variety of tropical trees, con- 
sidering how limited is the acreage at the disposal of 
the gardener. Of course the tower was never in the 
possession of the notorious pirate or any others of the 
Brotherhood. It was undoubtedly built for the pro- 
tection of the colony in its early years. The view 
from the roof is magnificent, but whether it is worth 
the climb up so many rough stone stairs is a question 
the answer to which is wholly dependent upon the 
age and capacity of the climber, and, perhaps, one 
may add, his appreciation of views. For my own part, 
I am of the opinion that distance, when measured 
perpendicularly, does not always lend enchantment 
to the view, though it increases the circle of one’s 
horizon. 

I was glad to be able to seat myself upon the stone 
parapet, after drinking in such draughts of sea-air as 
might, if delivered on the instalment principle, supply 
me with ozone for the rest of my life. 

Miss Crofton was my companion. Her father was 
interested in botany and did not care about scenery, 
283 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

so he remained in the gardens, while we gasped onr 
way up to the roof of the tower. I was rather glad 
to be alone with her. I had not had an opportunity 
of talking to her apart since she had made me ac- 
quainted with the pitiful romance of her life when 
we left Martinique. I wished to talk to her about 
Martinique. 

“ Do I intend to go ashore? ” she repeated; then 
she was silent. She leaned one elbow on the stone- 
work and looked wistfully across the blue bay. I 
waited for her to speak, but some minutes had passed 
before she turned to me, saying : 

I can not say whether I shall go ashore at Mar- 
tinique or remain on the steamer. What would be 
the use of going ashore ? Do you fancy that he would 
be likely to change his mind ? If I thought — oh, you 
know > that I am past the point when one considers 
a matter from the standpoint of whether it is ladylike 
or even \ proper — I should not care whether or not 
people declared my act unwomanly— I would go 
ashore a/ad make the attempt to induce him to come 
to England with us and marry me as soon as we ar- 
rived. / Sometimes I feel that I must do that— I feel 
that Ji can not live without him — I think I feel that 
waxy just now. It is so foolish of him to look at this 
rmatter in the light that he does. Money? If the 
money was on his side, do you think that I would 
demur? I can not see that it matters who brings the 
money into a household— whether the husband or the 
wife. If a husband and wife are one — but what is 
284 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

the good of reasoning in this way? He will never 
be brought to see with my eyes. No, I do not believe 
that I shall go ashore at Martinique. * ’ 

“ You do not think that in after years, when you 
recall how you stood on the deck of the steamer look- 
ing across the waters to St. Pierre, you will reproach 
yourself? ” I asked. “ Will you not think: 4 I had 
the chance of going to him — perhaps I might have in- 
duced him to see with my eyes — he might have had 
a weak moment — a moment when his foolish sense of 
honor relaxed? ’ ” 

She shook her head. 

tl Do you know,” she cried, c< I sometimes feel 
glad — a sort of glad pride when I think how he has 
held out on a matter of principle — on a point of 
honor? I tell you that I believe I should be happier 
apart from him, having this feeling, than I should be 
by his side and knowing that he had yielded to me 
in a moment of weakness.” 

What could I say in reply to her? I understood 
her thoroughly. I appreciated to the full the exact 
shade of her feelings in respect of the man whom she 
loved. I sympathized with her varying moods— with 
her perplexities — with her dread of remorse if she 
neglected an opportunity of going to him. 

I was silent. We both looked out to where the 
shadowy coast of the island of St. Croix appeared in 
the distance. 

“ I do not believe that I shall go ashore at Mar- 
tinique,” she said again. “ It will not be hard for 
19 285 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


me to live through the rest of my life cherishing only 
memories of the man that I love.” 

I said weakly, for want of words that were not 
commonplace : 

‘ ‘ I wish that I could help you. I wish that I were 
equal to suggesting some way of making a happy end- 
ing to your story. ’ ’ 

6 ‘ That is so kind of you , 9 9 she said ; 1 1 but why 
assume that I am bound to be unhappy ? I have noth- 
ing but pleasant memories of him. I know that he 
is true to me and true to himself. Is not that knowl- 
edge enough to make me happy? ” 

What was left for me to say? 

We went down the long stairway without exchang- 
ing a word, and found Mr. Crofton among the giant 
crotons of the garden. We got into the buggy and 
drove back to the town at a fine pace, due not only 
to the circumstance of our going downhill, but to an 
important official engagement which the negro driver 
had entered into. He explained to us that this was 
the practise-day of the Fire Brigade, and he was a 
member. He seemed to be under the impression that 
the practise could not take place if he were absent — 
a very proper official spirit in which to approach his 
duty. 

I availed myself of his courteous invitation to in- 
spect the brigade, and I witnessed a very creditable 
drill with two engines. The more that I saw of mu- 
nicipal affairs at St. Thomas the more convinced I 
became that they are managed with tact and intelli- 
286 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

genee. The streets in Charlotte Amalia are the clean- 
est of any town in the West Indies, the roads are 
admirable, the police are obliging, and the Fire Bri- 
gade highly efficient. The negro population have some 
idea of their duties as citizens. One of the boatmen 
who rowed me out to the steamer instructed me inside 
a quarter of an hour upon the various aspects of the 
question of the transfer of the island to the United 
States, and when I got out of his hands I felt that 
there was nothing further to learn on the matter. 

(He did not ask me more than the regulation fare 
for taking me out to the steamer.) 

I left this delightful island with the pleasantest 
recollections, after a stay of four days. If it should 
eventually pass into the hands of the United States 
I feel sure that it will be turned into a huge hotel, and 
trolley-cars will run across the island taking bathers 
to the lagoon, where sharks are unknown. At present 
they are rather too numerous in the bay to make bath- 
ing agreeable, though there is a recognized bathing- 
place near Water Island, where the channel was cut 
to allow of a complete circulation of the current. 

During our stay at St. Thomas I noticed with 
interest that Major Wingfield had gradually relaxed 
the stern view of his duty which he had taken in con- 
sequence of his adroitness in killing the snake at St. 
Lucia. I could see that he felt that it would be taking 
a mean advantage of a fortunate accident if he were 
to place his deck-chair next to that of Miss Hope. 
The Krux people could not in the circumstances be 
287 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

otherwise than courteous to him should he make an 
attempt to join their circle, and knowing that he had 
this claim upon them, he thought that it would be 
playing an unworthy part to enforce it. When the 
Kruxes had been distinctly hostile it had given him 
great gratification to get the better of them; but I 
fancy he heard some of the idiots who were sneering 
at him whisper to one another that he would have an 
easy time in future — that he had laid the she-dragon 
under an obligation to him (they did not go so far 
as to include Mr. Krux in the obligation) and that 
he knew what he was about. This was enough to 
make him swear that he would never again sit in the 
deck-chair beside Miss Hope — never again instruct her 
in the mysteries of the ingenious Kodak. 

I have alluded to his assumption of this generous 
attitude after leaving St. Lucia; and he maintained 
it until St. Thomas was reached, only standing beside 
the girl for a few minutes at a time, and making in- 
quiries respecting the shattered health of Mrs. Krux. 
Any one could see that Miss Hope did not enter with 
any degree of enthusiasm into his views in regard to 
the Kruxes, though I am quite certain that she recog- 
nized the spirit under whose impulses he was acting. 

She looked quite mournful, and I believe that I 
once heard her say something quite “ snappy ” to 
Mrs. Krux. I hope my ears did not deceive me. Then 
she took to looking wistfully over the pigs of the past 
in her book, and finally she took to reading. It is 
only disappointment of the most acute nature that 
288 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

drives a healthy girl to a book ; and it is doubtful if 
her sense of disappointment is mitigated thereby. 

But on the night of our dance, Miss Hope, taste- 
fully dressed, was sitting between Mr. and Mrs. Krux, 
Mr. Sowerby holding a watching brief in front of her, 
and the result of such an arrangement was that no one 
could get near the girl to ask her to dance. Once Mrs. 
Pritchard, who was “ receiving,” quieted her own 
conscience by saying to Mrs. Krux, with the pleasant 
smile which one assumes when addressing a smileless 
person : 

“ Miss Hope is not dancing. ” 

“ No,” said Mrs. Krux. “ She has come on this 
voyage for her health.’ ’ 

Mrs. Pritchard said “ Oh! ” and did not pursue 
her inquiries. 

But when the third waltz had woven its airy chain 
around those who were sitting on the chairs down the 
center of the deck, Major Wingfield, who was still too 
lame to be able to hobble through even the Lancers, 
jumped up from where he was seated on the cover 
of the steering-gear in the stern, and went straight 
to Ethel Hope. 

“ Is it possible that you are not a dancer, Miss 
Hope? ” he said. 

“ She must be careful— very careful,” said Mrs. 
Krux. ‘ ‘ Rapid motion is deleterious. She is on this 
voyage for her health.” 

“ Rapid motion and the Amazon have long been 
strangers,” said Wingfield, smiling Mrs. Pritchard’s 
289 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSH1 

smile of placation. “ Of course you must dance, Miss 
Hope. I’ll stand by, and if I see any rapid move- 
ment, I’ll interfere. ’ ’ 

While he spoke, the last jingle of the waltz melted 
into the moonlight. He went off with a wave of the 
hand and returned in a few moments with an extreme- 
ly upright Danish lieutenant. 

“ So sorry, Mr. Sowerby, but no idlers are allowed 
in the gangway,” he said, and all Mr. Sowerby ’s reso- 
lution became as water. He swung his deck-chair 
round upon the projecting ankles of Mrs. Krux, and 
before that lady had recovered from the shock — while 
she was still rubbing the bruise— Major Wingfield had 
presented Lieutenant Svensen to Miss Hope, and Lieu- 
tenant Svensen, with his heels close together, was bow- 
ing and, in his perfect English, begging the honor of 
a dance. Wlien Mrs. Krux raised her head — she had 
stooped to rub her ankle — the alternative would, she 
thought (probably with good reason), be too startling 
—Miss Hope was walking down the deck by the side 
of the naval lieutenant. 

Mr. Krux, who had not forgiven Wingfield for 
killing that snake which was about to bite his wife, 
pulled from behind his cushion a paper with puzzle 
columns and tried to involve him in its meshes; but 
Wingfield was wary. He thought that Mr. Krux had 
revenged himself sufficiently on him when he had 
forced him a few days before into the “ lights ” of a 
page of double acrostics, so he shook his head, saying : 

“ My dear Mr. Krux, I will not interfere with 
290 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


your chance of a prize. Intelligence is an element 
that only confuses the issue of your competitions.” 

He was off, but not before he had noticed that Mr. 
Sowerby had so lost his head in the excitement of hav- 
ing swung his chair on Mrs. Krux, that he had stooped 
and was mechanically rubbing her ankle where she 
had left off. 

Wingfield that night devoted himself to the duty 
of acting as “ feeder,” so to speak, to Ethel Hope. 
His presentations to her were admirably representa- 
tive of all the grades of the naval service. This is 
an imperfect list which I made out on the back of a 
program : 


Lieutenants 3 

Sub-lieutenants 4 

Marines — Captain 1 

Lieutenant 1 

Surgeon 1 

Purser 1 

Second engineer 1 

Artillery — Major 1 

Captains 2 

Total 15 


The general impression that prevailed on the quar- 
ter-deck of the Amazon was that Miss Hope had a 
pretty fair night’s dancing. She did not get beside 
Mrs. Krux until our guests had been safely tucked 
into their boats and were being rowed through the 
291 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


moonlight back to their ship. Then Wingfield offered 
her his arm, saying: 

“ Let me hope that yon enjoyed yourself thor- 
oughly.^ 

Oh, I enjoyed myself, but not — not completely, ’ 9 
she said. She began her sentence forte , but ended 
diminuendo. 

“ I am rather — glad,” he whispered. 

I hurried away lest I should hear another word. 
That is what people do when they have heard all that 
they want to hear. I did not want to hear him ask 
her if the incompleteness of her enjoyment was due 
to the fact that she had not had a dance with him. 

But I was in time to hear her reply to Mrs. Krux 
when that lady was scolding her for having enjoyed 
herself. 

I think that Major Wingfield had every right: 
he was on the Chitral Expedition with my brother,” 
she said. 

What could Mrs. Krux, suffering as she was from 
a bruise just above her left ankle, say in reply to such 
a defense of Major Wingfield’s rights? 

We said good-by to St. Thomas the next day, and 
without there being the least break in the lovely 
weather with which we were blest, returned to St. 
Kitts, Nevis, Antigua, Montserrat, Guadaloupe, and 
Dominica. As we landed for some hours in the after- 
noon at the last-named island I had a chance, denied 
to me on the outward cruise, of seeinsr something of 
this lovely place, and of contrasting the negro popu- 
292 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

lation here with that of St. Thomas. "We never were 
so pestered with “ vagrom men ” as we were at Do- 
minica; and when, in no unmeasured terms, but with 
firmness, we declined their services as guides, they 
offered us every insult that monkey-spite could sug- 
gest. A couple of them went very near to hustling 
me. But knowing what cowards they were, I had 
only to make a motion of my hand toward an imag- 
inary hip-pocket to send them flying. They paid me 
the compliment of taking me for an American. 

The market-place is far too large for the present- 
day requirements of the town. It is for the most part 
covered in, a fact which seems quite to meet the views 
of the flies. The market-place is the rendezvous of 
all the flies in the West Indies, from the bumptious 
bluebottle to the malarial mosquito. The negresses 
who attend to their wants naturally tried to lure us 
under the roof, but as we thought that there was a 
sufficiency of food for them on the tables, we declined 
to figure on the menu for the day. 

The patois of the negroes is worse than that which 
we heard spoken at Martinique. The women are even 
fonder of bright colors, but they have not the mock 
majesty of the ladies of the French island. Dominica 
is a grand mountain of many peaks, wooded up to 
the highest, ridg’e. The forests which we skirted on 
our ride of two hours were striking beyond any that 
we had yet seen. It seemed that there must be miles 
unon miles of these forests, and every bend of the road 
afforded us an entirely new glimpse of the natural 
293 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

beauties of the slope. The ravines are dark with vege- 
tation except where a torrent rushes down among the 
crags, painting the borders of its irregular course 
bright green. This effect, which is frequently seen in 
an English landscape, seems to impart a note of ten- 
derness to the mad riot of the vegetation — the struggle 
of branch and root for light and space. 

We were quickly under weigh for Martinique, 
which we were to reach in the early night. 

I could see that Miss Crofton was overcome with 
restlessness — she had been impatient while we were 
at Dominica, and she only made a pretense of dining. 
By the time that the lights of St. Pierre were shaking 
on the water, her restlessness had become feverish. 
I knew that she was in a fever of expectancy. One 
thought — one hope — had taken possession of her mind : 
he might have come to see with her eyes since she had 
been with him, and the first boat to come alongside 
the steamer might bring him to her. 

And what did his coming to her mean? 

Well, I thought that I understood enough of her 
nature to be able to answer this. She possessed every 
charm of womanhood in her nature, and the constant 
aspiration of womanhood is not after happiness, but 
only to make some one else happy. 

I did not go near her all this afternoon. I thought 
that she would be best left alone with her thoughts 
— her hopes — her doubts. I was standing at the 
steamer’s side looking across the sparkling water, at 
the lights of the island, when she came beside me. 
294 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


i ‘ I suppose you will go ashore for an hour ? ’ ’ she 
said. 

“ I must get the photographic films which I left 
to be developed and printed, ’ ’ I replied. 

“ I will not go ashore,” she said. “ I have been 
thinking all day whether I should go or not, and I 
have made up my mind . 1 ’ 

“ Can I do anything? ” I inquired. “ Should I 
make an attempt to — to — could I do anything that 
would prevail with him? Would it be impudence 

on my part to suggest that — perhaps ” 

She caught my arm suddenly. 

“ If anything happens it will be within the next 
minute,” she gasped. “ Oh, my God, my God! what 
does the next minute mean to me? What — what? ” 
She scarcely uttered the words above her breath, 
but they were quivering with passion — the passion of 
expectancy which had taken possession of her. She 
almost sprang from my side, and then threw herself 
into a chair facing the hand-rail which had just been 
lowered for the boats. Several were already holding 
on to the platform at the foot, and people were com- 
ing on board. She waited there with parted lips, her 
fingers locked together, while strangers came up out 
of the darkness into the light of the electric lamps. 

I waited also and I leaned over the bulwarks so 
that I should be the first to catch sight of the man and 
signal to her that he was coming to her. 

Boat after boat drifted up to the platform, amid 
the customary confusion ; and numbers of people ran 
295 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


up the steps of the rail. I scrutinized every face. I 
had not the heart to look round; I knew what ex- 
pression there would be on her face. On they came 
still by the dozen — some chatting together — some on 
official business — some pausing half-way up to shout 
instructions to the boatmen. 

He was not among them. 

And then the numbers dwindled. There was no 
more confusion among the waiting boats. Only two 
or three men were on the steps, and they were in no 
hurry to reach the deck. The officer at the head of the 
gangway inquired if any of the passengers were going 
ashore. Immediately afterward he called out my 
name and held up his hand. I went to him. He had 
a paper parcel. 

“ A man has just brought it aboard for you and 
is waiting to be paid, ” he said. “ Take my advice 
and see that it is all right before paying, ’ ’ he added. 

A young negro standing by took off his hat. 

I knew what the parcel contained, without taking 
the trouble to read the business name on the label. 
A letter was attached to the parcel. I tore open the 
cover under the electric light, and found a letter and 
a bill within. The former I read. 

“ Sir— I beg leave to send you the four rolls of 
developed films with prints of all that were success- 
ful. Two were spoiled through over-exposure, and 
one is a complete blank. I fancy that you rolled up 
an unexposed film with one on which there was a pic- 
296 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


ture, passing the number on the indicator. I regret 
that I am compelled to go to Fort de France for a 
day or two, but perhaps you will be good enough 
to pay the bearer the enclosed account. 

“ Your obedient servant, 

“ H. Brown.” 

I gave the messenger the amount of the bill, with 
an extra half-crown to pay for the boat, and asked 
him if he brought a parcel for a lady as well. He 
said he had given one to — he turned to where Miss 
Crofton had been sitting. She had disappeared, and 
I did not see her again that night. 

Shortly after midnight I was standing on the 
bridge of the steamer looking back at the island. I 
felt sure that Miss Crofton ’s eyes were turned in 
the same direction. I felt sure that, on receiving her 
letter, she had thrown herself on her cabin sofa in a 
torrent of tears; but that was some hours ago. She 
would now be perfectly calm, wistfully watching that 
island disappear into the dimness of the distance — 
watching her hope of happiness fade into the dark- 
ness of the past. 


297 


CHAPTER XXI 


The next day at St. Lucia I had a rather interest- 
ing experience. By an extraordinary stroke of luck 
I was placed in a position to affirm that I had not 
returned from these piratical waters without being 
on the deck of a pirate ship — the only one that has 
been pursuing her calling off the Spanish Main for 
a century. 

From time to time during the previous six months 
accounts had appeared in the English newspapers of 
the depredations of the steamship Ban Righ, which 
had been fitted out, partly at London and partly at 
Antwerp, for the Venezuelan insurgents under Gen- 
eral Matos. But the nation was not greatly perturbed 
to learn that she had been implicated in certain acts 
of piracy on the high seas — capturing peaceful trad- 
ing-ships and fishing-boats, impressing their crews 
and otherwise emulating the achievements of the craft 
with which the Caribbean was familiar for more than 
two centuries. 

I had read all that was published respecting this 
modern representative of an ancient infamy; and I 
was under the impression that the cruisers of all na- 
tions were chasing her from sea to sea, and that all 
the obsolete guns on all the obsolete forts — everything 
in the West Indies is obsolete, and so are the islands 
298 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


themselves — had been double-shotted and ready to be 
trained upon the piratical craft the moment that she 
should appear. But when I came on deck early in 
the morning at St. Lucia and looked once more out 
upon the mountains of coal on the wharf, one of the 
officers of the Amazon pointed to a steamer which was 
being coaled just ahead of us, and said: 

“ That’s the Ban Righ.” 

There she lay coaling, like an ordinary, every-day 
ocean tramp. 

I hastened ashore and examined her fore and aft, 
but no trace of a name could I perceive, either on 
quarter-board or life-buoy. I had never before heard 
of so modest a pirate. I could, however, clearly see 
where the original name had been carefully painted 
over, and on the bridge I noticed the oily glint of a 
Hotchkiss gun beneath a tarpaulin, mounted in the 
most ludicrous fashion on a ridiculous platform. This 
deadly weapon was in the center of a conning-tower, 
composed of what looked like the debris of a marine 
store in the Minories. 

Derelict cork life-belts, such as are suspended 
from the ceiling of a steamer’s state-rooms to inspire 
confidence in the minds of the passengers who are 
lying wakefully in their bunks beneath; old cork 
fenders, packages of engine-room cotton- waste ; greasy 
bundles of sailcloth; an oil-can or two — these consti- 
tuted a most effective, though somewhat irregularly 
built, conning-tower for an intrepid gunner — only 
there was no gunner. 


299 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


All along the rails stood unkempt rows of the most 
unsavory ruffians that ever eluded the vigilance of the 
harbor-police of the most notorious ports of three con- 
tinents. When a thief’s hour is come, even a police- 
man will capture him — in time ; if appearances count 
for anything, I should say that the majority of the 
faces which loomed grimly through the smoke of their 
cigarettes, will not long remain on the sunny side of 
a window with bars. 

The resources of the ship in this direction seemed 
unlimited. All along the lower deck were more jail- 
birds, and on each side of the planks between the shore 
and the ship were fellows awkwardly carrying ridicu- 
lous-looking cutlasses — scrap-iron cutlasses, hoop -iron 
cutlasses. 

I inquired if it was their custom to cut down any 
of the negro women who delivered a coal-basket short 
of weight, and one of the few white men — the mod- 
erately white men — on the quay-side told me that the 
cutlasses were merely for show. 

They made a poor show. 

I asked him when the comic opera was going to 
begin, and if a uniform price was charged for mati- 
nees. I thought I should rather like to have a front 
seat if it was cheap. 

He smiled vaguely, and asked me if I had such a 
thing as a Jamaican cigar about me. 

I gave him one of a less generous growth, and, 
taking my life in my hands, boldly marched up the 
pirate’s plank. I had often written of the dangers 
300 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


attached to walking the plank in pirate ships, and I 
think I should have hesitated before boarding this 
particular craft had I not seen those cutlasses in the 
hands of the desperadoes, who touched their hats to 
me as I went among them. 

I must say that on going aboard I was received by 
the crew of desperadoes with the greatest possible 
courtesy. 

But as I looked around, I found my courage grad- 
ually oozing out at my finger-tips. It was not the 
pirates that I feared to face — I can not imagine any 
one doing this — but their fore-deck was a genuine 
terror. 

One of the men with the Lowther Arcade cutlasses 
noticing my hesitation, and apparently being unaware 
of its origin, asked me, in the language of the Spanish 
Main, if he could do anything for me. 

I at once said, airily: “ El capitan.” 

The man explained with incomprehensible fluency, 
but easily understood gestures, that I would do well, 
if I wished to see the captain, to go round to the 
front door. 

It appears that I had come aboard by the trades- 
men’s entrance. 

I went ashore and walked along the quay-side till 
I came to the quarter-deck rail ; up this I went cau- 
tiously and circumspectly, but on arriving at the plat- 
form at the top I found myself confronted by half a 
dozen men wearing dingy uniforms— the uniforms of 
a jumble sale. As a matter of fact, their uniforms 
20 301 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

were not uniform, except in regard to dilapidation. 
In this respect, however, perfect unanimity prevailed. 

They touched their caps, and I responded. Here, 
again, I thought I would spring upon them my recol- 
lections of comic opera, so I said quite glibly once 
more: “ El capitan? ” I was amazed to find that 
all of them shook their heads gravely. I smiled, 
touched my cap again, and made a motion as if I 
understood them to suggest to me the pleasure it would 
give them to permit me to search around the ship for 
their commander. 

But, unfortunately, they did not take my inquisi- 
tiveness in the spirit in which it was offered, and they 
held up four warning hands to me. 

At this point there came hurriedly toward us across 
the deck a medium-sized, good-looking man in civilian 
attire. “ General Matos,” said one of the officers, and 
I immediately took off my cap and salaamed, for I 
knew that I was in the presence of the revolutionary 
leader. 

Anything less like the traditional revolutionist 
could scarcely be imagined. Here was a gentle-faced 
elderly man, with gray-blue eyes. 

There was something of nervousness in the smile 
with which he greeted me, saying: 

1 1 Good morning, sir. May I have the pleasure of 
serving you in any way? ” 

He certainly spoke the best English that I ever 
heard a foreigner speak. 

* 1 I have the honor to address General Matos ? ’ y 
said I. 


302 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ That is my name, sir,” said he. 

I handed him my card, saying: 

“ I am an English passenger on the mail-steamer, 
and I have taken the liberty of coming aboard your 
vessel to tell you how cordially we sympathize with 
your cause.” 

I had not the remotest idea what his cause was, 
but I had had a considerable experience of Irish agi- 
tators, so I thought that I should be doing the right 
thing to touch as early and as frequently as possible 
upon the Cause. General Matos smiled blandly, and 
‘ ‘ winked the other eye, ” so to speak ; his amphibious 
smile showed me clearly that he saw through me. 

“ I am so pleased, sir,” said he. “ I am only 
sorry that I can not have the pleasure of welcoming 
you aboard my ship ; but that is impossible. You see 
the state she is in — deplorable! ” 

“ An apology is quite unnecessary,” said I. “ I 
wished merely to take a stroll round your deck.” 

“ I could not think of permitting it,” said he; 
“ the deck is disgracefully dirty.” 

“ No doubt you have great difficulty with your 
crew, sir,” said I. “ How many men do you chance 
to have aboard just now? ” 

General Matos smiled once more quite blandly and 
expressively. 

‘ 4 The morning is extremely warm , 9 9 said he, * ‘ and 
I should not wonder if the day were one of the hot- 
test we have yet had.” 

4 4 It is pleasant to escape an English winter,” said 

303 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I. “ May I ask if that is a Nordenfelt or another 
Hotchkiss, under that tarpaulin astern? ” 

“ Must you really go? ” said he, smiling his ambi- 
dextrous smile. “ I am sorry.” 

He held out a thin hand to me. I took it, with 
frank admiration of his methods. 

“ General Matos,” I ventured to say, “ we in Eng- 
land are most culpably ignorant of the aspect of poli- 
tics in Venezuela; but I think I may venture to 
prophesy that you will be the next President, and 
if you succeed, you may be sure that the English peo- 
ple, in spite of their ignorance of Venezuelan politics, 
will regard you as a hero.” 

“ Sir,” said General Matos, with a gentle, soothing 
waving of the hands, “ have you ever tried the choco- 
late of Caracas? ” 

Now, the truth was that I had tried the Caracas 
chocolate, and found it— well, trying, and as I was 
afraid that the next step which this astute diplomatist 
might take to consolidate the rapprochement between 
England and revolutionary Venezuela, would assume 
the form of an offering of this particular comestible, 
I thought it wise to evade the responsibility which 
attaches to a political agent not accustomed to such 
delicate negotiations ; and so, to avoid the possibility 
of an international complication, I thanked him for 
his graceful and certainly tactful reception, and also 
for the valuable information which he had given me 
regarding various matters, took the hand which he 
offered me, and went down the gangway. 

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Somehow I had a curious impression of having 
been got the better of by General Matos. 

I took a thoughtful walk — when one is crestfallen 
one is usually thoughtful — among the palms and man- 
goes of the cathedral square, and returned to the mail- 
steamer for breakfast. 

But I had not yet done with the Ban Righ — her 
new name is El Libertador. 

In the afternoon, when all the coaling had been 
completed — and paid for — there arose a great commo- 
tion among the negroes at the quay-side. 

It appears that the rumor had got abroad among 
the negroes of the island that several of the islanders 
were about to be carried off in El Libertador, and 
they were determined, as one man, to prevent an in- 
fringement of the liberty of the subject by El Liber- 
tador ; so when the captain had given the order to cast 
off the hawsers and the tinkle of his engine-room tele- 
graph was heard, and the propeller began to revolve, 
they held on in a tug-of-war fashion to the after 
cable. 

They held on like grim death, howling, yelling, 
execrating, like very demons. 

Suddenly a figure appeared in the stern. General 
Matos took in the details of the situation with the eye 
of a strategist. In a flash he had whipped out of his 
pocket a weapon with a blade about the size of a din- 
ner-knife ; with a few masterly strokes he severed the 
strands of the cable where the tension was greatest, 
and in another second there were a thousand sprawl- 
305 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHIIs 

ing, jabbering, jammed negroes on the ground, look- 
ing like a jar of gigantic leeches hastily emptied out, 
and El Libertador had liberated herself and was al- 
ready twenty yards away from the breastwork of the 
quay. 

The negroes picked themselves up, and, still jab- 
bering, wiped the coal-dust off their knees, and shook 
it, Newfoundland-dog fashion, out of their woolly 
locks. 

But they knew that they were beaten, and they 
fell over each other in paroxysms of laughter, point- 
ing to the steamer, which was hoisting the Colombian 
flag, passing the fort at the entrance to the harbor. 

I need scarcely say that the presence of mind dis- 
played by the general in that crisis which confronted 
him so suddenly, confirmed me in the impression which 
I had formed of him. He will assuredly be the next 
President of Venezuela. 


306 


CHAPTER XXII 


But when we were starting for Barbados in the 
evening, I found that we had as passenger one of the 
officers of the Ban Righ, and from him I got as much 
information on the subject of that craft as would en- 
able me to discharge in the most conscientious way 
the duty of historian of the craziest cruise ever un- 
dertaken since the three wise men of Gotham went 
a-yachting. 

I will frankly confess that the statements of a 
professional revolutionist, as this gentleman was, 
should, I have always thought, be subjected to what 
may be called a mental editing before being accepted 
as historical; and thus it was that, had I set about 
publishing all that my revolutionary informant told 
me, I should have thought it my duty to adopt, if I 
could, the literary equivalent to the attitude of the 
man who tells you something with his tongue in his 
cheek. But when, after an interval of more than a 
fortnight, I found myself aboard another steamer 
listening to a corroboration of all the details of the 
narrative by a very different sort of person, I felt — 
well, I felt that I had done an injustice to a man who 
combined two qualities rarely found in obtrusive asso- 
ciation in the West Indies. My second informant 
307 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

was an Englishman, and he did not profess to have 
any revolutionary tendencies. He was more interested 
in the revolutions of the propeller than in all those 
that had taken place in South American Republics 
since the days of Bolivar. 

He had nothing but good to say of General Matos : 
General Matos was a gentleman, and no man could 
work a donkey-engine better. It appears that Matos 
possesses a remarkable delicacy of touch in all his 
diplomatic relations with a donkey-engine as applied 
to a winch; but the amiable general had, my friend 
believed, too little knowledge of human nature, to say 
nothing of Venezuelan nature — which is usually just 
the opposite — for his business. These were not the 
exact words employed by my friend, but I think that 
they express what he meant to say. For the benefit 
of such persons as are scrupulous about original texts 
and hesitate to accept paraphrases, I may mention 
that his exact words were : ‘ 1 Matos bit off more 
than he could chew.” He did not believe greatly in 
Matos’s powers of mastication. He rather thought 
that the Ban Righ — he never called that steamer by 
her new name — would masticate Matos first. 

To return to the narrative of the cruise, as com- 
municated to me by one officer and independently 
corroborated by another. It was quite pathetic to 
hear the South American professional revolutionist 
deplore the absence of self-restraint in a British dock- 
mob. He shook his head sadly when he referred to 
the show of violence on the part of the crowd who 
308 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


fancied that the steamer was being fitted out in Eng- 
land by the pro-Boers. It seemed to make him quite 
melancholy to think of the rising of angry passions, 
even under the impulse of patriotism ; but this stern 
moralist was not on board the steamer until she had 
gone to other waters. It was not at the port of Lon- 
don, but at the port of Antwerp that the business of 
fitting out the vessel for naval warfare was com- 
pleted. Business? It might be possible to find a 
more suitable word to express what was done. 

This is how the good old coasting craft was pre- 
pared for her deadly mission : One hundred and fifty 
cases of varied champagnes — some revolutionists like 
it rather sweet, while others think that it can not be 
too dry — were brought aboard, with some hundreds 
of dozens of hock — still and sparkling — an equal num- 
ber of a very fine Sauterne, a few casks of pale sherry, 
tawny port, and a vintage claret. These were for 
casual consumption — ephemeral trifles, carrying with 
them no responsibility. They were of the nature of 
hors d’o&uvres, for the serious business of the cruise 
brandy was shipped in cask — brandy prescribed by 
Dr. Johnson for heroes, and therefore eminently 
adapted to the needs of revolutionists. Rum, mellow 
with the traditions of naval enterprise in the West 
Indies; gin, anticipatory of cocktails; whisky, Irish 
and Scots, and 11 minerals ” by the thousand, for the 
Spanish Main abounds in “ mineralogists, ’ ’ only they 
never omit the “ whizzle.” 

These represented the liquids in the victualing of 

309 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


the ship, and the caterer for the picnic was equally 
generous in the matter of solids. The refrigerator 
was packed with all manner of dainties. Hares, pheas- 
ants, grouse, woodcock, and wild duck found a place 
by the side of sirloins of beef, legs of Welsh mutton, 
sweetbreads, and other incidental dainties of la haute 
cuisine. Realizing the fact — too often lost sight of 
by those who are supposed to look after this depart- 
ment — that the truest economy is to provide the best 
cook for the best food, the ‘ 1 management ’ ’ managed 
to secure the services of a chef who had just left the 
yacht of a New York millionaire. 

It was in such conditions that the ship ’s company 
went forth to “ rough it ” after the manner of the 
original buccaneers of the Spanish Main. The true 
spirit of these daredevils found expression in what one 
of the company said to me. 

“ We didn’t care how long the voyage lasted; not 
we,” said the man, and I believe him implicitly. 

They had champagne at every meal — some took it 
for breakfast — in the cabin ; and the crew, simple in 
their tastes, drank whisky and soda. The stokers’ 
palates were wanting in refinement : they stuck to the 
rum. 

“ Drunk? Not they. You can’t make a stoker 
drunk,” said my informant in reply to a question 
which I ventured to put to him. “ No, there wasn’t 
one that was drunk, but there wasn’t one that was 
sober all the voyage. They were all ‘ happy.’ ” 

I expressed no doubt on this point. It was clear 
310 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


to me that the ‘ ‘ management ’ ’ had been reading Mr. 
Gilbert’s ballad of H.M.S. Mantelpiece. It will be 
remembered that, in regard to the crew of this re- 
markable ship — 

Did they with thirst in summer burn, 

Lo, seltzogene at every turn ; 

Then lemonade and ginger pops 
Stood handily at all the tops. 

The Ban Righ became a second Mantelpiece — only 
more so. Every sort of game had its apparatus 
aboard. Cricket, quoits, bean-bags, and * ‘ bull ’ ’ were 
designed for the more robust of the company, and 
chess, draughts, and dominoes for the intellectual. 
A specially constructed photographic apparatus was 
supposed to appeal to all natures, and it did. There 
was not a man aboard who remained unphotographed 
before the ship reached the Azores; but after that 
the dark-room was deserted, and the camera was 
“ kicking about the scuppers,” I was told. 

A truly delightful trip out to the islands had all 
aboard the revolutionary ship. She was provided 
with a set of flags of all nations, so that she might 
be all things to all men, and hurt the susceptibilities of 
none. But when she reached Martinique, where her 
owner, General Matos, joined her, some little trouble 
arose, the fact being that the British captain, engi- 
neers, and crew had only shipped for the “ run,” and 
probably feeling suspicious on finding themselves so 
well off, declined to enter into the romance of the 
311 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


situation. They cared nothing for the enterprise of 
General Matos; they talked of the Board of Trade. 
The result was that nearly all the officers and crew 
were paid off, and a company of “ patriots,” to the 
number of about three hundred, took their places. 
There was a long series of negotiations with the en- 
gineers, but nothing came of it, and French engineers 
were engaged. When the anchor was cat-headed off 
the ill-fated St. Pierre — no one then dreamed of the 
doom hanging over the port — the captain telegraphed 
“ Stand by ” to the engine-room, and then “ Astern 
slow.” There was no response; the steamer began 
to drift. Once more the telegraph was set tinkling; 
but it was a tinkling cymbal. The anchor was again 
let go and the captain sent a polite message to the 
engine-room by his second in command, asking the 

engineer what the but messages from the bridge 

to the engine-room are of no literary interest. After 
a space an answer came that the French engineers 
had got up steam all right, but they greatly regretted 
that they were unacquainted with the best means of 
starting the marine engine. 

There was a council of war held in the engine- 
room. One patriot suggested turning a certain tap, 
another said he was sure that a marine engine w r as 
set going by pulling a handle somewhere. Every han- 
dle was pulled, every tap was turned, and patriots, 
who are always suspicious, whispered of treachery. 
As a last resource General Matos sent a message to the 
French cruiser, which was at the anchorage, to inquire 
312 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


if the chief engineer would have the courtesy to send 
a man aboard to show the engine-room hands how 
to start the machinery. This was done. The third 
engineer of the cruiser boarded the Ban Righ, now 
called El Libertador, and started her. 

And then began the craziest cruise on record. It 
was the cruise of a ship of comic opera. The captain 
gave the order to clean down the decks, but no one 
responded. When he tried to hustle the watch they 
reminded him that they were patriots, and patriots 
never washed. The decks remain unswabbed. The 
tender touch of the emollient “ squeegee ” was un- 
known to the teak for weeks. When I visited the ship 
I made up my mind that I had never seen such decks 
in all my seafaring, so that I was not surprised to hear 
that the vegetable growths on the decks were becoming 
quite tropical, when the captain, driven to despair, 
sailed the ship into certain cross-seas whose existence 
he knew of, and for one whole night she was subjected 
to all the rigors of that most drastic domestic remedy 
known as a spring cleaning. ” 11 If he hadn t done 
it there would have been palm-trees growing on the 
decks by now,” said my informant; and then he went 
on to tell me that warning had been given to all aboard 
that the vessel would possibly ship a sea or two, so that 
everything movable should be made fast. The pa- 
triots paid no attention to this, and the consequence 
was that they were flooded out of their hunks, and 
hen-coops were found swamped in the saloon. “ But 
the decks were washed,” he added, with a nod that 
313 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


conveyed a good deal to me. He was an Englishman, 
and the recollection of the deluged domino-players 
• — they were always at dominoes, he told me — seemed 
particularly grateful to him. 

In the early dawn after this night of terror one 
of the many generals aboard managed to crawl up 
to the bridge where the captain was enjoying the 
scene of devastation, and commanded him to put the 
steamer at once into smooth water, abusing him in 
Venezuelan Spanish for having ever allowed her to 
leave the slumberous spaces to the lee of the Leeward 
Islands. 

When tranquillity was ultimately restored General 
Matos thought the moment had come for asserting his 
authority. He did so through the medium of * ‘ procla- 
mations. ’ ’ Every day brought about a new ‘ ‘ procla- 
mation,’ , which was posted in duplicate all over the 
ship. It was quite customary to paste a copy on the 
chart-room door when it was lying open and hooked 
back. Of course, when the door was closed the 
“ proclamation ” became invisible. One of these 
documents announced that there would be Mauser 
drill on a certain day. When the day came several 
cases of Mauser rifles were hoisted out of the hold, 
Senor Matos presiding as usual at the donkey-engine, 
and the “ drill ” began. It consisted in every man 
firing off as many cartridges as he could lay hands 
on, with no particular object in view. When the men 
were tired or thirsty they threw down their arms and 
returned to their cocktails and dominoes. The rifles 
314 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

remained on the decks, not merely for days, but for 
weeks after, and when they were found to be rusty 
they were thrown overboard. Hundreds of rifles were 
thrown overboard and case after case of ammunition. 
Jettison seemed to become a mania with these “ pa- 
triots .” One day the patent log was missing. On 
another occasion, it will scarcely be believed, Lord 
Kelvin’s deep-sea sounding-apparatus was removed 
from the stern and thrown overboard, the explanation 
for such an act being that it interfered with the after 
Hotchkiss gun. The same excuse was given to the 
captain for the sawing away of twenty feet of the 
stern rails. 

Out of the hundreds of comical incidents narrated 
to me by independent witnesses concerning this crazy 
cruise, I have only space for two in this chapter. The 
first was the gazetting of an officer “ Lieutenant- 
General of the Condensed-Water Tank.” The ambi- 
tion of every patriot aboard was to be made a general, 
and by the end of the voyage there were more gen- 
erals on the ship than one might find ‘ ‘ generals ’ ’ on 
the books of the most popular registry-office. It was 
found that the water was being wasted, and the cap- 
tain persuaded Senor Matos to take steps to put a 
stop to this. The water-tap was ordered to be secured 
by a padlock, but as the captain knew perfectly well 
that the majority of the ship ’s company had had con- 
siderable experience in picking locks, he used a pair 
of handcuffs for the purpose, and the key was given 
into the charge of a man who was forthwith gazetted 
315 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


in due form “ Lieutenant-General of the Condensed- 
Water Tank.” In two days the key was lost, but not 
before the lock of the “ irons ” had been unfastened. 
The next day there was not a drop of water in the tank, 
and the boilers were being caked with brine. 

The second incident which is typical of this crazy 
cruise was the firing of one of the large guns. The 
day had come when the ship was to be taken into 
action. The tiny gunboat HI Crespo, of the Venezue- 
lan Government, had been sighted, and showed no 
sign of running away. On the contrary, it turned a 
gun on the Ban Righ, and the latter, being short of 
coal, had to fight. The first shot discharged from 
her Hotchkiss on the bridge broke absolutely every 
article of glass and crockery in the cabins and kitch- 
ens below, so great was the shock to the nervous sys- 
tem of the cruiser. The general in command was 
about to order the saloon furniture to be broken up 
for the furnaces to enable him to escape, when, to 
the amazement of every one, the gunboat hoisted a 
white flag, and Senor Matos boarded and formally 
took possession of the vessel in the name of the revo- 
lutionary party. The rumor that went the round of 
the Caribbean at this time was that the El Crespo had 
been scuttled ; but at Martinique I came on a Gazette 
in Spanish describing the action and signed by Matos, 
and I am bound to say that it said nothing about the 
scuttling. At any rate, a fortnight later I was at La 
Guayra, and when being rowed out to his Majesty’s 
ship Indefatigable I saw a tiny gunboat in the harbor. 
316 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I inquired its name, but I had no need to do so, for 
when we got alongside I saw it on the quarter— El 
Crespo ! The boat was in a perfectly sound condition, 
with only a small hole in the funnel. 

Space would fail me were I to make the attempt 
to give all the particulars of the cruise which were 
communicated to me from time to time by a gentle- 
man who was entitled to say “ Quorum pars magna 
fui.” I need only add to this superficial but per- 
fectly accurate resume of the history of the Ban Righ, 
viewed from the standpoint of two of the most impor- 
tant members of the ship’s company, that ten hours 
after being aboard the Ban Righ at the island of St. 
Lucia, I saw the Venezuelan cruiser Bolivar which 
had been sent to capture the revolutionary ship. It 
seemed to the commander that the best thing he could 
do was to get into the dry dock at Barbados without 
delay. So there was the Bolivar hauling into dock, 
while the smoke of the Ban Righ, of which it was in 
search, could be seen above the horizon! Half an 
hour later I found the commander of the Bolivar hav- 
ing a friendly cocktail with the gunner of the Ban 
Righ. 

I could repeat all that was told to me of the seri- 
ous business of the cruise — of the foolish attempts to 
land arms, of the burying of arms in the sand at cer- 
tain points along the coast of Venezuela, and of the 
digging up of the same arms a day or two later lest 
they should get into the hands of the Government, but 
there is no need to enter into further details. I had 
21 317 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


been told enough of the whole business and I had seen 
enough of it to prevent my being surprised when I 
heard that at last the boilers of the Ban Righ had be- 
come so caked that they were useless, and that the 
steamer had just managed to crawl through the Boca 
Grande into the anchorage off Port of Spain, Trini- 
dad, where two Venezuelan cruisers had brought their 
guns to bear on her. I did not doubt the breakdown 
of the Ban Righ, but I must confess that I questioned 
the vigilance of Venezuela in the matter of the 
cruisers. 


318 


CHAPTER XXIII 


I had not the heart to examine the rolls of devel- 
oped films or the prints which I had received from 
the English photographer at Martinique, until the 
steamer arrived at Barbados and I heard Miss Crof- 
ton telling some of the other amateurs how well her 
photographs had printed. She was exhibiting the 
pictures on one of the tables in that part of the com- 
panion which was called the drawing-room, explain- 
ing to her friends how we had been recommended by 
the lady of the creme de cacao to take our films to 
the English photographer. 

“ And you see the result,’ ’ she said, pointing to 
the prints before her. “ The French photographer 
refused to do anything for us, but no one could have 
been more civil than Mr. Brown. He had to go from 
St. Pierre to Fort de France yesterday, but he took 
the trouble to send the pictures aboard for us.” 

I was going ashore at that moment, but when I 
returned in the evening I brought the unopened par- 
cel up from my cabin to the smoking-room, and in- 
vited Mr. Aytoun, who was the sole occupant, to ad- 
mire the prints when I had taken them out of their 
case and spread them upon the table. The advantage 
of having a conscientious Scotsman as critic is that 
319 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

you get to know the worst at once. Like most con- 
scientious Scots, Aytoun was prepared to criticize 
everything adversely at a moment s notice *, and he 
had some fine chances when he was asked his opinion 
of the efforts of the amateur photographers on board. 

He pursed out his lips over my prints, and asked 
me as if he were individually aggrieved at what I had 
done, why I had been so persistent in choosing the 
most uninteresting subjects. After calling my atten- 
tion to the fact that several times I had got the wrong 
focus, and that my lens was an exceptionally bad one 

that the detail of the foreground was misleading 

and that the whole series could only be regarded as 
possessing any value on the assumption that they were 
needed as illustrations of errors in exposure, the limits 
of his admiration were reached and he began to pour 
forth adverse criticism upon my work. 

He was a very conscientious man. 

“ You developed them yourself? ” he asked. 

I denied this side of the culpability of the work. 
There was a dark-room aboard the steamer, I believe, 
but apparently the management did not want it to 
be known — they kept it dark. 

* ‘ They were done for me by a man in Martinique ; 
and by the way, he says nothing about the defective 
lens or the errors in exposure.” 

“ It was none of his business,” said my friend. 

I had taken the photographer’s letter out of my 
pocket and was reading it again to verify my recol- 
lection of its contents. 


320 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


I threw it across the table. 

“ Yon can see for yourself,” said I. “ The few 
mistakes that I did actually make are not here. ’ * 

“ Aye,” said the Scot. “ Aye. I am inclined to 
believe that the greatest success of the lot is the one 
he refers to — the one that was a perfect blank.” 

He continued looking at the letter as though he 
were reading it over and over again. He turned over 
the page as if he were looking for a postscript, and 
finding none, he read the letter again from first to 
last. 

“ You are trying to read between the lines and 
discover some scathing criticism that does not appear 
on the surface,” said I. 

“ Aye ; maybe that. Who is this ‘ H. Brown, Pho- 
tographer, St. Pierre, Martinique/ anyway? ” said 
Aytoun. 

“ He is just that, I suppose — ■ H. Brown, Pho- 
tographer, St. Pierre, Martinique/ Did you expect 
him to be Lord Roberts, or Kruger, or the German 
Emperor? ” said I. 

“You took the films to him to be developed ? What 
sort of a man is he, now? ” 

Now I felt rather inclined to resent friend Ay- 
toun ’s prying in regard to this particular man. Of 
all the men whom I had ever met, Aytoun was the 
most given to what he called “ putting two and two 
together.” He was a solicitor by profession, and I 
suppose that he made his deductions from force of 
habit. It occurred to me that he might have over- 
321 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHIIs 

heard one of Miss Crof ton’s conversations with me, 
or that he had observed us talking together with some 
degree of closeness since we had been ashore at Mar- 
tinique — perhaps he had noticed the perturbation of 
Miss Crofton on receiving her parcel from the pho- 
tographer at Martinique, and so, as usual, he was put- 
ting two and two together. 

That was why I hardened my heart against him 
when he asked with studied casuality what sort of 
man was this photographer. I determined not to grat- 
ify his idle curiosity, so I said, after only a trifling 
pause : 

‘ ‘ What sort of man is he ? Oh, I did not see any- 
thing particular about the man. He was a photogra- 
pher sort of man, I suppose ! ’ ’ 

“ Aye. And about what age would you say? ” 

“ About the same age as most of us — twenty-five 
or thirty,” I replied with scrupulous inaccuracy. 

“You and me — we’re a bit over thirty,” he said. 

“ Well, who knows? Perhaps Photographer Brown 
is no chicken either,” said I. 

* ‘ I fancied that he hadn ’t much experience of pho- 
tography, ’ ’ said he. ‘ ‘ iQueer to find an Englishman 
living among these half-savages at an out-of-the-way 
place like Martinique! He doesn’t write like a clerk 
or an English tradesman. If I wanted badly to hide 
myself from the police or the Official Receiver or a 
wife with theories I think that I would go to Mar- 
tinique. It would be impossible ever to find a man 
if only he was wise enough to hide at Martinique.” 
322 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ Do you suggest that Photographer Brown is a 
fugitive from justice? ” I cried. 

“ I don’t suggest anything of the kind: I haven’t 
enough data to go upon, ’ ’ he replied. ‘ ‘ But you saw 
the man — had he the look of a man who finds it con- 
venient to live away from home for a while? ” 

4 4 Not in the least ; he looked like a well-bred Eng- 
lishman and spoke like one, ’ ’ said I, feeling somewhat 
indignant at the result arrived at by my friend ’s pur- 
suit of the principle of putting two and two together. 

But the emphasis which I threw into my words 
had no repressive influence upon him. He only smiled 
when I had spoken. 

“ I have heard before now of well-bred, civil- 
spoken Englishmen who found it to their advantage 
to live where nobody could find them,” said he, 
shrewdly. “ But, mind, I’m not hinting that your 
Mr. Brown — not a bad name to hide under — Brown 
— is either a fugitive or a gentleman. I shouldn’t 
wonder if he was clean-shaven j they usually shave 
off the beard and mustache. Man, you’d be surprised 
how hard it is to identify a man you are accustomed 
to see with a beard, when he ’s clean-shaven. ’ ’ 

4 ‘ I don ’t think that this Brown had been tamper- 
ing with his appearance. He wore a mustache,” 
said I. 

“ Did you say he was a short, thick-set man? ” 
he asked. 

“ Yes,” I said, quickly, recollecting the fact that 
in my impatience I had actually given this persistent 
323 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Scotsman a good deal of information regarding Mr. 
Brown. Now, however, I had recovered my equanim- 
ity sufficiently to deceive him again. ‘ ‘ A short, stout 
man with a face like a cherub ’s.” 

‘ ‘ I’ve never seen a cherub ; but I can fancy what 
one looks like — with a mustache, ’ ’ said he. ‘ ‘ Ah, we ’ll 
let Mr. Brown be. At worst it may only be that he 
has run away from a girl — a girl that has either been 
unkind or too kind to him. He has made a good job 
of your photos anyway. They’re not so bad when 
you look at them in the gloaming. If you take my 
advice you’ll exhibit them only to your best friends 
and in the gloaming — they’ll maybe pass at that.” 

I laughed and said that in future I would only 
show them to my friends. He gave a laugh too while 
he said: 

‘ ‘ In that case I ’ll be always ready to see them. ’ ’ 

I flattered myself that on the whole I had got the 
better of this suspicious Scot. He was of such a na- 
ture as made it impossible for him to get that letter 
into his hands without having his suspicious aroused 
in respect of the writer. The calligraphy was not that 
of a clerk — that of itself was enough to set his imag- 
ination going. But then there was the fact of this 
educated Englishman — the writing was that of an 
educated man — living among an uncongenial people. 
Why— why? That was what Mr. Aytoun wished to 
know. 

I considered that I was fully justified in my eva- 
sions. When one is being cross-questioned after the 
324 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


fashion adopted by Aytonn, one can not be blamed 
for being evasive. He had not learned much from 
me respecting that Mr. Brown, though to be sure I 
had ceased to be on my guard for a minute or two. 
Still I felt satisfied that I had given away nothing 
of Miss Crofton’s secret. Aytoun wished to know 
everything about every one. I did not doubt that he 
could have correctly estimated the amount of Miss 
Crofton’s fortune, and whether or not her father’s 
property was deteriorating in value; but though he 
may have suspected that Miss Croft on had a love- 
story, he had not gained from me much information 
on this particular subject. 

I did not say a word to Miss Crofton about the 
secret which she had confided to me, nor did she allude 
to it. What was left for either of us to say? There 
had been a little expectation — a little awakening of 
hope for a few days — that was all. The episode was 
over. She had taken up the book of her life where 
a mark had been placed at a page of an unfinished 
chapter, and she had read that chapter to the end. 
Now she had laid down the book once again. 

We went to the island of St. Vincent from Barba- 
dos, steaming alongside a mountainous coast until we 
reached the harbor of Kingston, and found ourselves 
looking up a high slope broken up by romantic valleys. 
The vegetation here struck me as quite different from 
that on any other island in the Caribbean. It resem- 
bled more closely that to be found on the mountains 
overlooking some Irish lakes that I know in the south ; 

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though of course on landing one was soon made aware 
of the true tropical growth — palms, mighty crotons 
of gorgeous colors, flowering shrubs that lit up the 
valley as with variegated lamps. 

I chanced to have Miss Croysdale as my compan- 
ion when I went ashore. Somehow Mrs. Heber had 
needed the services of young Conrad to carry some- 
thing for her — I believe it was a trowel : she wanted 
to dig up a root or two to carry home with her, and 
she had heard that there was no place in the West 
Indies except St. Vincent where the right sort grew. 
I had never heard of her taking the slightest interest 
in botany until we were landing at this island. 

Conrad was one of those young men — they are 
getting rare — who are always ready to sacrifice their 
own inclinations when a matron, old or young, takes 
them in hand. I felt sure that he was looking forward 
to a pleasant ramble by the side of Miss Croysdale, 
but Mrs. Heber had taken him in hand and he did 
not so much as make a wry face. I could not for the 
life of me, looking at the matter from a purely botan- 
ical standpoint, see why they should not all have gone 
together grubbing for roots and things ; there were no 
mystic rites that I had ever heard of to be observed 
in digging up tropical trash; it was not the sacred 
mistletoe, and Mrs. Heber was not a Druid priestess ; 
but I said nothing. 

Miss Croysdale and I met in the Post-Office — a 
romantic building to wdiich access was gained from 
a sort of courtyard by a staircase to the second story 
326 


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— and I suggested that she should come with Major 
Wingfield and me in our buggy. She said that she 
would be delighted to do so. 

I felt that Mrs. Heber was a very thorough chap- 
eron. By taking charge of young Conrad she was 
preventing the wagging of tongues that would cer- 
tainly have followed if he had gone a-walking with 
Miss Croysdale. 

We had a pleasant enough drive through the main 
street of the town, across a bridge that spanned a 
small stream, and then up the hill in the direction 
of a fort. No prettier town than Kingston, St. Vin- 
cent, had we visited in our wanderings. Quite a num- 
ber of the houses have touches of color relieving the 
monotony of the usual distempered yellow, and nearly 
all have bright red roofs. We got out of the buggy 
several times — to visit a huge Methodist chapel, evi- 
dently a very old building, and farther on, a small 
arrowroot-factory, the latter a very paltry concern. 
Wingfield said he was not greatly interested in arrow- 
root and its manufacture, though he once had been, 
so he allowed us to pay our visit without him; and 
when we came back to the buggy we found that he 
had disappeared, leaving a message for us that he 
had gone on to the Botanical Gardens, where he hoped 
that we would pick him up later on. 

Miss Croysdale was thus left alone with me, and 
I could not have had a more interesting companion. 
She was enchanted with the drive up the valley, point- 
ing out to me a hundred varied effects, and telling me 
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the name of every tree and shrub that contributed 
to the vivid picture. She had never been in a tropical 
country until she came to the West Indies, she told me, 
but her father had been devoted to botany and she 
had been familiar for years with such commonplaces 
of tropical vegetation as were around us. 

“ I feel myself saying daily as Kingsley said, 
1 At last/ ” she cried. “ I dare say that you as well 
as some of the other passengers have wondered what 
on earth I am doing here alone. If I told them that 
I had come out of pure love for the things that grow 
here, they would smile or shrug their shoulders / 9 

“ I dare say that they have smiled and shrugged 
before now, but I know that I have not,” I assured 
her. “ To tell you the truth, although I admit that 
I am interested in the people whom I meet, I have 
never encouraged myself to investigate their private 
affairs. I have never asked myself what brought 
them here, for fear they might retaliate, and I might 
not be able to explain without a reference to some 
text-books of Hegel's philosophy how I come to be 
here. Let us hope that you are enjoying yourself.” 

“ I should, if it were not for — for some things,” 
she said, rather sadly. 

“ Surely no one is unkind to you? ” I said. 

“ Oh, no; but, well— I think that it is just the 
other way,” she replied. 

“ The other way — over kind? ” 

That is what perplexes me. Sometimes I am 
very unhappy.” 


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“ That is rather a pity. Take my advice, give 
your heart up to your botany — to nothing else — noth- 
ing else — not even a man.” 

A tropical flush passed over her face. I am afraid 
that my suggestion disturbed her. There was a con- 
siderable pause before she said: 

‘ £ That is the resolution which I make every day. ’ ’ 
“ Then you must see and keep to it. Good heav- 
ens ! to think of any one knowing as much as you do 
about botany and not throwing oneself heart and soul 
into the study when the chance comes of doing so. 
Give yourself up to this beautiful study to the exclu- 
sion of everything else — every one else, and you will 
learn where true happiness is to be found.” 

I think that she must have detected a false note 
in my admonition, for she made no reply ; and a few 
minutes afterward the buggy pulled up at the en- 
trance to the Botanical Gardens. She jumped to the 
ground and hurled at me in fun the Latin name of a 
shrub which sent into the air a magnificent purple 
plume. I had never seen this glorious thing before, 
but she assured me that I had been frequently struck 
with it at Kew Gardens. For the next half-hour she 
was my guide from bower to bower, from grove to 
grove. The Botanical Gardens at St. Vincent are not 
designed merely as a playground for the young negro ; 
they exist on as scientific a foundation as do those at 
Kew, appealing to practical as well as poetical people. 
The result of experiments made with coffee, cocoa, 
arrowroot, bamboo, and scores of other commercial 
329 


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growths is made known to inquirers, and when these 
islands, by the assistance of the required million or 
two to which I have already referred, recover them- 
selves and become once more great centers of trade, 
the good work done by the Botanical Gardens will 
attain the recognition which it deserves. 

Miss Croysdale made me aware of a fact, which I 
had never sufficiently appreciated before — namely, 
that the poetical side of these things of nature is the 
scientific side. The more I became informed of the 
functions of the various plants the more I became 
aware of the rhythmic enchantment of them all. The 
life of one of these flowering shrubs is a lyric, and 
Miss Croysdale seemed to understand all the meters 
in which it is sung by Nature. 

One or two seemed to have about them something 
of an epic, and quite as many to be impregnated with 
the true spirit of Sophoclean tragedy. 

“ I have spent half an hour with the best poets,” 
I confessed to my charming guide, when she had dis- 
sected a nutmeg growth for me; and I felt that I 
had spoken the truth, though I have sometimes thought 
since then that, after all, the commercial aspect of 
flowers is the most poetical. But that is probably be- 
cause years of arrogance and egoism prevent us from 
being able to consider anything apart from its rela- 
tionship to man. We feel that the highest function 
that any plant can fulfil is to administer to our com- 
fort. We look for a larder in every grove. 

While we were wandering among the nutmegs, we 
330 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

suddenly came upon Mrs. Krux and Mr. Sowerby. 
They were greatly perturbed. They had come ashore 
with Miss Hope and had by accident met Major Wing- 
field at the entrance to the gardens. He had promised 
to show Miss Hope the cocoa-plants, and while they 
were going, as Mrs. Krux thought, straight for the 
section where they were to be found, Major Wingfield 
and Miss Hope had disappeared. 

It was plain that the unhappy lady and her friend 
had been wandering about the gardens as if in a maze. 
They were both very hot and began to dispute as to 
whether or not they had passed a certain giant mango 
before. .Mr. Sowerby affirmed that they had sighted 
it once and passed under it once. So that, after all, 
they could only have gone over a very limited area. 
Mrs. Krux suggested to us that we should take part 
in a systematic search after the missing pair; but I 
endeavored to convince her that such a movement was 
wholly unnecessary. I felt sure that they would not 
leave the gardens without giving notice, especially as 
Major Wingfield was returning in my buggy. 

Mrs. Krux was not convinced. She sent Mr. Sow- 
erby hallooing and coo-ee-ing down a long vista, and 
I will say that he performed his duty very thorough- 
ly: I knew that wherever Major Wingfield and Miss 
Hope might be they would not neglect that danger- 
signal, but would take good care to keep out of its 
sphere of influence. 

It suddenly occurred to Miss Croysdale to ask Mrs. 
Krux if she had yet been to where the young cocoa- 
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plants were growing. If Major Wingfield had said 
that he was going thither, was there any reason to 
suppose that he had changed his mind and route? 

From Mrs. Krux’s reply I gathered that the cocoa- 
plantation was the only part of the gardens which 
she had scrupulously avoided in her search. 

“ Then might it not be well to hasten there? ” 
said Miss Croysdale. 

The elder lady could not sufficiently collect her 
thoughts to grapple with so daring and original a 
suggestion, but gradually it seemed to dawn upon her 
that in sympathy with its surroundings it might con- 
tain a profitable germ. Miss Croysdale knew where 
the experimental section would be situated and guided 
us straight to it, the bass hallooing and falsetto coo-ee- 
ing of Mr. Sowerby sounding fainter in the distance. 
When we reached the spot we found Major Wingfield 
and Miss Hope seated quite pleasantly together on 
a garden-chair watching the young cocoa-plants 
growing. One was sitting at one end of the chair, the 
other at the other end, which I thought looked sus- 
picious. 

The girl seemed very happy; but she did not allow 
her happiness to warp her sense of duty ; for she ad- 
ministered quite a little scolding to Mrs. Krux for 
having wandered away with Mr. Sowerby from the 
straight path that led to the cocoa-plants. I believed 
that I heard Mrs. Krux express contrition for her 
error. 

And all the time we were talking together the air 

332 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

was rent with the hallooing of Mr. Sowerby. I believe 
that he was followed by a few hundred colored chil- 
dren, who assumed that he was the pioneer of a new 
religious cult — one whose exercises were well within 
their powers. 

Well, we have seen where the cocoa shoots, so I 
suppose we may now leave the butts,” said Major 
Wingfield. 

We all went to the entrance, where we found our 
buggies. Miss Hope was by my side at this time. She 
was full of admiration for the gardens, and was enor- 
mously interested in the culture of cocoa. 

“ Major Wingfield is quite an old friend,” she 
said in this connection. “ At least, though I never 
met him in England — he went up to Chitral with my 
brother. ’ 9 

I told her that I thought that was very nice, and 
she said that he was getting quite strong again, and 
would soon be able to walk without the support of 
a stick. 

While we stood by the buggies we saw in the dis- 
tance the figure of Mr. Sowerby. He was breasting 
the valley slope, hallooing as he went. He was like a 
character out of a play of Ibsen — a man going labori- 
ously up a purple slope hallooing and mopping his 
face with a handkerchief— a blue cotton handkerchief 
with red spots. He gets higher and higher while a 
group of men and women watch him. He gives one 
halloo wilder than any that he has yet uttered, and 
the curtain falls. Mr. Sowerby was full of symbol- 
33 333 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

ism. The blue cotton handkerchief would in an Ibsen 
drama simply reek of symbolism. 

We did a little hallooing too, and he heard us and 
turned round. He breasted the slope no more, but 
came down to us with all convenient rapidity. This 
of course would be the movement of the Ibsen char- 
acter in the second act — also marvelously symbolical. 

In the boat going back to the steamer was young 
Gilbertson, and just as we were mounting the rail, he 
laid his hand on my arm, saying: 

“I am so sorry to bother you; but would you 
kindly tell me what is the name of this island? ” 


334 


CHAPTER XXIV 

Coasting a long range of rugged islands known 
as the Grenadines, we reached Grenada. Like St. 
Vincent, the slopes are densely overgrown with for- 
ests of low trees, the most remarkable of which is the 
bois immortelle. It is of a brilliant orange, so that 
a small plantation gives quite a strong and welcome 
color to the whole landscape. The town is built on 
a narrow promontory, and seemed to me the snuggest 
that I had yet seen in the West Indies. I dare say 
it was the church-tower that gave me this impression 
of the place. It suggested a white English village 
nestling among trees at the foot of some downs. 
Every island town in the West Indies has its own 
characteristics, hut I do not think that any are so 
pleasing to a wanderer's eye as those of Kingston at 
St. Vincent, and Georgetown at Grenada. 

The harbor of the latter is one of the best, as it is 
certainly one of the most picturesque. The Amazon 
did not, however, go beyond the roadstead. To reach 
the harbor one sails between two headlands — an old 
fort crowns one of them — and keeping close to the 
shore, finds oneself completely landlocked. A steamer 
of two thousand tons can unload at the quay-side. 

We went ashore in one of the ship's boats, round- 
ing the nearest headland and sailing through the love- 
335 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


liest piece of water I had ever seen. The bay here is 
like a lagoon, and the white serrated coral at the bot- 
tom reflects the sunlight, filtered, as it were, through 
fathoms of water of the green of a chrysoprase. 
Every moment of our progress through the bay made 
us aware of an added picturesqueness to the town. 
Houses with bits of color and red roofs nestled among 
mighty cabbage-palms and huge mangoes. All up the 
side of the soft green slope 'are clumps of feathery 
palms, and bananas and groves of limes. All the vari- 
ations of green are here, from that of the spring let- 
tuce to that of the holly — varnished and shining. 

For close upon a mile our boat slipped through 
the water and we felt that we were being fondled by 
this voluptuous landscape on each side of us. The 
bay had taken us into its arms and it seemed to me 
that the world had nothing better to offer me than 
this. Between the surface of the water and the white 
coral shining up from its depths, hundreds of fishes, 
pink and crimson and lemon, lazily swam. We could 
see their shadows on the white below. It was the first 
time that I was in a position to appreciate Tennyson’s 
striking simile: 

A shoal of darting fish . . . 

Come slipping o’er their shadows on the sand. 

But if a man who stands upon the brink 
But lift a shining hand against the sun, 

There is not left the twinkle of a fin. 

We landed at a little boat-jetty at the deepest part 
of the hollow of the hay, and at once found ourselves 
336 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

in a mangrove-brake. For a mile alongside the shore 
a tangle of snakelike roots spread itself abroad, and 
the boughs locked themselves overhead, so that we 
walked through a tunnel whose woven wall no machete 
could pierce. Happily planks had been laid upon 
the roots, so that we were spared making a journey 
of a hundred yards upon the most distasteful of paths. 

Miss Croysdale was delighted to find that this was 
the water-entrance to a garden more spacious even 
than that at St. Vincent. She asked me if I would 
like another lecture on the botany of the islands; and 
I certainly should have liked another; but I noticed 
that young Conrad, who was in the bow of the boat, 
gave a little uneasy writhe at the suggestion, so I 
thought it better to shake my head. 

‘ ‘ I do not want to cram my botany, ’ ’ I said. ‘ ‘ I 
am anxious to assimilate the knowledge which I gained 
yesterday, before going any further. But every island 
is but a new Botanical Garden, only not arranged 
systematically ; I shall have other opportunities of 
sitting at your feet.” 

“ I knew that I was so dull that you would never 
stand another half-hour of my botany,” said she; 
and while I told her that I had never been more in- 
terested in all my life before, I could see Mr. Fraser 
fumbling with his note-book. 

“Iam taking down a remark you made,” he ex- 
plained to me. 

“ You make me dizzy,” I said. “ Little did I 
think when I left for these parts, a simple man eager 
337 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSPIINE 


to learn, that any remark of mine should be thought 
worthy ” 

“ Oh, but I am improving on it, of course,’ ’ 
said he. 

“ Of course — oh, yes, of course.” 

“ Yes; you said, ‘ Every island in the West Indies 
is a Botanical Garden,’ and ‘ God is the Curator of 
all ’ are the words which I have added. I will em- 
body the whole in my lecture on the islands.” 

I assured him that words could not express my 
obligation to him, but I hoped that he would not 
jeopardize the success of a lecture for the sake of doing 
me a kindness. 

I found the caretakers of these gardens just a 
little too courteous to strangers — a little too anxious 
to give one a smell of a camphor-bush or to explain 
the mystery of the milk in a coconut; but I suppose 
they think, with Mr. Fraser, that it is well to combine 
entertainment with instruction. They certainly do 
their work well and their gardens are a credit to the 
island. 

I renewed my acquaintance with the growing of 
black pepper, nutmeg, camphor, and quite a number 
of other dainties, not forgetting the 4 ‘ pawpaw,” as 
it is called in these islands — a fruit out of which a 
fortune will one day be made; for it is not only the 
most exquisite of all preserves, it is also the most re- 
markable digestive that exists in nature. I heard a 
great deal of its qualities in the West Indies — how a 
small portion of the fruit will prevent the most un- 
338 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


promising meal from carrying with it the customary 
pang, and how a tough steak will become toothsome 
if wrapped for an hour or two in pawpaw leaves. 
It was, however, left for an American whom I met in 
these waters to assure me that the preserved fruit was 
capable of producing results equal to those attributed 
to pepsin. When an American, brought up on iced 
water and gum — one of the great nation that has in- 
vented fourteen sorts of dyspepsia — can say so much 
for the fruit, it appears to me there is a great future 
in store for it in a world that is dining later every 
year and more expensively. 

I walked for a mile or two up the slope, passing 
several neat villas with gardens which I envied, every 
hundred yards giving me a new and more glorious 
picture of mountain and sea; and then, keeping to 
the town side of the height, I found a very good track 
that led me down to the coast-road half-way round 
the bay. I reached the town in the twilight, so that 
I saw it to the greatest advantage. I was told that 
it had become shabby since the great depression had 
set in; but I saw none of this shabbiness about it. 
The houses seemed for the most part spacious and 
well built. As usual, I came upon large warehouses 
quite empty — relics of the days of great trade. I had 
seen the same melancholy sights on the west coast of 
Ireland — at Galway, Westport, Sligo, and Limerick. 

I went out to the Amazon before the twilight had 
darkened into night. A grateful breeze was blowing 
from the land and the boat felt its effects on round- 
339 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


ing the headland. The waves were full of color and 
the oar-blades dropped golden phosphorescence. All 
the sky was streaked with pink, and in the northwest 
there were roseate ribbons flowing above the purple 
ridge of the slope. Looking seaward there was an 
island of amber above the horizon, delicately trans- 
parent and with the creamy cloudiness of amber. In 
the far distance the sea was bright as steel. 

Every moment saw a change in the coloring of this 
wonderful picture. Before one had time to point out 
an effect it had passed away, 

Like the lightning that hath ceased to be 
Ere one can say “ it lightens.” 

Such a fantom fairy of twilight tints I had never 
seen before. The sky was like the sky of a northern 
night when all the armies of the aurora are riding 
forth with lances of gold and on every lance there 
is a pennon of pink. 

And yet when we had crossed the channel between 
the ship and the shore, the night had come. A night 
of regal blue — a silken robe buttoned with diamonds. 

I stood at the ship ’s side looking at the twinkling 
lights of the island, and I made a remark without 
noticing who was beside me. 

“ Yes; I think it is all quite wonderful,” came the 
response in the voice of Myra Ormsby. 

I asked her if she had been ashore and she replied 
that of course sbe had been ashore. 

I did not fec-l called on to ask her what she thought 
340 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

of Grenada, but though I felt hurt by her recent treat- 
ment of me I could not turn round and walk away. 
There was a long pause, however, before she leaned 
her elbow on the bulwarks and her chin on her hand, 
and then said in a low voice, with a little aggrieved 
note sounding through it: 

Why is it that for some time past you have kept 
away from me? You used to come beside me and 
chat, and I told you about myself — I confided in 
you? ” 

“ Oh,” I cried; “ did you — did you? ” 

“You know very well that I did. And you said 
straight out once that you were on my side. Are you 
not on my side still? ” 

“ I can not tell you until I know what is your 
side. What is your side, Miss Ormsby? ” 

“You know perfectly well what it is. I told you 
that I had met a man in London, and that my father 
had been so unreasonable that he would not even let 
me say what his name was, but bundled me aboard 
the steamer that brought us out — I told you all that 
and you advised me — now did you not ? — to be faith- 
ful to him.” 

4 ‘ I admit all. Now, can you stand beside me with 
those stars looking out of that wonderful sky at us 
- — with that Star of Love throbbing over the fort 
there — and tell me that you have been faithful to that 
man? ” 

“ Yes,” she said, “ I have been faithful to him — 

I have never had a thought of any one else.” 

She had turned her head half-way round, her chin 

341 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


being the pivot, and her hand its rest, so that she was 
looking straight into my face. Her voice was sweet 
and low and firm. What a thing is woman ? She had, 
I knew, been with Jaffray on the island, and I felt 
confident that she had allowed him to kiss her among 
the foliage. It had been a cruise of kissing with them 
from island to island. 

I shook my head, murmuring impersonally: 

“ Oh, woman, woman! ” Then I looked at her, 
saying very personally, “ Faithful? — after that ” 

I made a move. 

She stopped me. 

“ Don’t go away,” she said, pleadingly. “ I 
wished so much to talk to you. I have been living a 
life of deception and I am very happy — I mean I 
am very unhappy. ’ ’ 

“ Had you not better make up your mind which 
you really are — happy or unhappy? If you were to 
ask me to give you an opinion on the subject I should 
say that you would do well to give the casting 
vote in favor of the happiness,” said I with great 
severity. 

“ Yes, I think that I am fairly happy,” said she, 
complacently ; ‘ * but it is just that that makes me un- 
happy — it is so wicked of me to be happy.” 

“ When a woman’s happiness is the result of wick- 
edness,” I began; but the little laugh that she gave 
arrested my morality. 

4 ‘ It was on account of the wickedness that I chose 
you to talk to,” she said; and I told her that I felt 
342 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


greatly flattered. “ Yes,” she continued, “ I have 
been deceiving my poor dear father.” 

“ As an expert in wickedness,. I can assure you 
that that doesn’t count,” said I. “ What does count 
is deceiving a comparative stranger such as myself.” 

“ But I never did that — at least, to no great ex- 
tent.” 

“ You told me that you meant to be faithful to 
the man whom you left in England.” 

“ Ah; that is just where I deceived you and my 
poor dear father. I did not leave that man in Eng- 
land.” 

“ You — what? ” 

“ I did not leave him in England. I brought him 
with me. His name is Jaffray — Charlie Jaffray.” 

Some moments had passed after she made this reve- 
lation to me before I recovered from my surprise. 
Then I merely said: 

“ Oh! ” 

“Yes. I think that I feel easier now that I have 
confessed. I felt sure that I should. After all, it 
was my mother who made the suggestion to us. She 
is so clever. It all turned out just as she said it would. 
Father was so unreasonable. I told you that he would 
not even allow me to mention the name of the man 
who had proposed to me when I visited Aunt Agnes 
in London. It was mother who thought that father 
and Charlie should be brought together somehow, and 
she came to the conclusion that there was no better 
way of giving Charlie a chance of showing father 
343 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

what he was, than a long cruise. Well, it has turned 
out better even than we could have hoped. Father 
is never tired of singing the praises of Charlie in 
my ears.” 

And your life of deception consists in pretend- 
ing to him that you care nothing for this Charlie of 
yours ? Well, this is a very pretty little story, taken 
as a whole. But how is it to end ? Are you going 
to allow your poor father to come upon you and your 
Charlie when the latter has his arm about your waist ? 
There may be other ships ’ cemeteries with monumental 
figureheads besides the one at Krom Bay.” 

She gave a delightful laugh — a laugh with a blush 
rippling through it. 

“ What, were you there too ? ” she asked in a whis- 
per. “ Was there ever anything so funny? We had 
no way of escape after we heard papa’s voice; so the 
idea struck me — we thought what a piece of luck it 
was that you should urge him to hurry down to the 
boat. We thought that it was luck, but you had seen 
us, and — oh, it was so good of you ! ’ ’ 

* * * ^ ave a life of deception in my time, and 
I also found it very pleasant,” said I. “ But don’t 
you think that it is about time for you to withdraw 
some of your reluctance to the society of Mr. Jaffray ? 

You must give yourself a margin for doing it gradu- 
ally.’ ’ 

“ That is just what I want to talk to you about,” 
said she, quickly. “ Would you advise us to confess 
all to my father? ” 


344 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ All— all? No confession that ever was made to 
father or mother or husband or wife includes all,” 
I said. “ And most confessions are merely an ac- 
knowledgment of the acuteness of perception of the 
one to whom they are made. You would not confess 
anything if you did not think that you would be 
found out. ’ ’ 

“ Indeed, I am genuinely unhappy — sometimes.” 
Of course : at such times as you think you may 
be found out.” 

“ Tell me what we are to do and we’ll do it.” 
You will ? Yes, if it agrees with what you mean 
to do.” 

‘ 1 Why will you be so horrid ? ’ ’ 

Because you deceived me ; and for a whole week 
I have been disappointed in myself— actually doubt- 
ing my own cleverness, because I had failed to see 
through you— because I had had faith in the faithful- 
ness of such eyes as yours, and that faith was rudely 
shaken. Is it any wonder that I should be horrid? 
If you were to confess to your father how you have 
deceived him I think it very likely that he would be 
horrid too. No man likes to be got the better of. I 
do believe that he would be less horrid if he were to 
find you out : it requires some cleverness to find out 
a deception. One has got more or less respect for the 
person whom one finds out, but never for the person 
who confesses. One feels slighted at a voluntary con- 
fession : you see it implies that you hadn’t the ability 
to find out.” 


345 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

I don’t understand all this. I am very sorry, 
but I don’t, really. You said something about with- 
drawing my reluctance — gradually.” 

“ And seriously I believe that that would be the 
best thing that you could do. I know that if I had 
been properly grounded in my catechism, I should 
urge you in the strongest language that I could bor- 
row from the Mosaic dispensation, to confess to your 
father how you have deceived him. But you see I’m 
not high-principled. I want you all to be made happy 
* your father especially. He would never be happy 
or allow you to be happy if he knew that you had 
deceived him, and that your mother had deceived him, 
and that he had deceived himself when he fancied 
that he was doing a clever thing in getting you to cease 
thinking of the man at home whose name he never 
knew, in favor of the man to whom he has taken so 
great a fancy and whose name he knows to be Jaf- 
f ray. ’ ’ 

Then you think that we should not confess.” 

I saw her face brighten while she spoke. She was 
anxious to obtain the justification of my counsel for 
not confessing. 

“ I don’t see why you should confess. I think you 
will find it much more convenient to show yourself 
interested in your father’s choice. I can’t see why 
you have hitherto shown so marked an indifference 
to him.” 

“ We thought it better, for fear that father should 
have the least idea that Mr. Jaffray was — was — the 
other.” o a a 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ Perhaps it was as well. He will think all the 
better of you for your holding out against Mr. Jaffray. 
I don’t see why Mr. Jaffray should not go to your 
father one of these days asking for permission, as 
a high-minded young man should, to pay his ad- 
dresses — is that the phrase ? — to you. Of course your 
father will warn him what to expect, hut I think that 
the young man will persevere.” 

“ And after that? ” 

‘ 1 After that you may rebuff him for a while — yes, 
I should certainly prescribe a rebuff; hut then you 
will come to see that your father’s wishes should be 
the only consideration of your life, and you will ac- 
cept the man of his choice.” 

‘ ‘ That is exactly what we had arranged to do all 
along,” she cried. “ There is really not much de- 
ception in the matter, and besides ” — she made the 
little pause which invariably precedes a gentle wom- 
an’s sophistry — “ besides, we are only deceiving him 
for his own good.” 

The dinner-bell went clang. 


347 


CHAPTER XXV 


The laugh against myself, in which, of course, I 
could not indulge in Miss Ormsby’s presence, came 
off in the seclusion of my own cabin. I could not 
understand how it was that I had never so much as 
suspected the truth. Now that I knew what the truth 
actually was it appeared to me that only the least im- 
aginative person could have failed to see it. I had 
preferred suspecting the girl. When I recollected the 
eyes of that girl I could not understand how it was 
that I had ever mistrusted her. Only a fool would 
have done so — a fool who possessed some qualities 
even less worthy of admiration than ignorance. 

It took me some time to realize that, in spite of that 
sweet expression in her eyes when she looked at me 
straight in the face, Miss Myra had actually been 
playing a trick upon her pure-minded father; and— 
this added to the culpability of the offense— playing 
it upon him with consummate ability. I can not say 
that this reflection interfered to any great extent with 
my appreciation of the sweetness of the girl. No man, 
from Othello down, ever thought the worse of a sweet 
girl who had “ deceived her father and may thee. ,, 
It is not safe, however, for a girl who is not sweet 
348 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

to take it for granted that she may do the like with- 
out causing pain to her friends. 

And then I was led on to think of the girl’s mother 
who had suggested the playing of the trick upon her 
husband. I wondered was she justified in doing so; 
and the conclusion to which I came was that she was 
quite justified— so rapid is the growth of moral de- 
terioration when it once sets in. I was able to per- 
suade myself that, because Mr. Ormsby had acted 
unreasonably, his wife and daughter were fully justi- 
fied in letting him have his own way. I felt sure that, 
when Mr. Ormsby said that his wife was a very clever 
woman, he was only speaking the truth. She was not 
only a very clever woman, she was a woman whom 
it would be very easy for a man to get on with. I 
felt sure that she and Mr. Ormsby got on well to- 
gether, and I was equally convinced that when their 
daughter Myra married Mr. J affray, and Mr. Ormsby 
reminded his wife that it was solely by reason of his 
astuteness that the girl had been saved from the 
clutches of that adventurer to whom she had taken 
a foolish girl’s fancy when in London, there would 
be no rupture in the Ormsby household. The lady 
would give him a chaste smile and a .few moments 
later she would laugh. If he inquired the cause of 
her mirth she would say that all’s well that ends well. 

And she would say what was quite right. 

This was how I tried to justify the very worldly 
advice which I had given to Miss Ormsby, and which, 
as it so exactly coincided with the course which she 
23 349 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

had determined to pursue, she assured me she would 
adopt. I was worldly-minded enough to feel that, if 
everything turned out well in this little romance, I 
had given the girl good advice ; but if there was any 
hitch, the advice which I had given her was bad. I 
had also all the satisfaction which was to be found 
in the reflection that if any hitch occurred I should 
be blamed by Miss Ormsby, but if everything ran 
smoothly, she and her lover would congratulate each 
other on their cleverness in having resolved to pursue 
the course which — but of this they would take no count 
— I had advised. 

When I went on deck to smoke after dinner, I 
found Miss Ormsby sitting by the side of Jaffray, 
and apparently enjoying whatever information he 
was imparting to her. It was her father who, with 
infinite slyness — the slyness of the successful merchant 
of the Midlands — called my attention to this fact. 

“I am very hopeful,” he whispered in my ear. 
“ He has a great fund of information. Of course I 
am not blind to the fact that he is not just the sort 
of man who would attract a girl : he hasn’t the turned- 
up mustache and the curly black hair — doesn’t the 
poet say something about the raven’s wing? — of the 
young man on the chocolate-box — he isn’t the hero 
of the young ladies’ seminary, but he is a young man 
of sterling merit and excellent principles — straight- 
forward — incapable of deception. That is the only 
thing that makes me uncertain about his career at the 
Bar.” 


350 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ If that is your only misgiving, Mr. Ormsby, I 
would not let it trouble me too much if I were you,” 
said I. 

“ I s ee what you mean,” he said. “ Yes, I have 
thought of that too: if he can suggest to a jury as 
he has to us, that he is incapable of deception, it may 
be to his advantage. That is what you mean? ” 

I told him that something like this was in my 
mind. I added that it seemed to me that he had 
come to be very sure about Mr. Jaff ray’s character 
and attainments, although he had known the young 
man only a short time. 

I think somehow that one comes to know more 
about a man in a week on the same ship than one 
could in a year on land,” he said. “ Oh, I am quite 
sure about Jaff ray. I only hope— but she must have 
time— she must have time. What do you think ? You 
have knocked about the world. Ho you think it pos- 
sible that she will ever see with my eyes? ” 

“ I think that it is more than likely that she will 
look with favor upon Jaffray.” said I. 

“What? Well, you are encouraging, ” he cried. 

“ But how about that fellow in London? Do you 
think it possible that she will forget him? ” 

“ I don’t say that, Mr. Ormsby,” I replied, doing 
my best to suppress the laugh which I felt coming ; 
for I felt myself to be one of the characters in a far- 
cical comedy— a character who has been “ let into 
the secret ” of the plot in the second act, talking to 
one who has not. I hardly knew the dialogue of the 
351 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

piece: I could only struggle on. So I tried to look 
very serious while I repeated: 

“ i don’t go so far as to say that she will abso- 
lutely forget him ; what I do think is that that 
well, girls are curious ; I believe that with Miss Orms- 
by the identity of the man whom she met in London 
will somehow insensibly become merged in this Mr. 
Jaffray, and she will actually take up the thread of 
her love just where she dropped it, only now it will 
be Jaffray who will assist in her weaving. I hope 
that I make myself clear. I am afraid that I do not.” 

“ You make yourself perfectly clear,” he said, 
“ only it’s deep — very deep.” 

“ Not too deep to be beyond experience, I hope,” 
said I. 

“ Well, I hope not,” said he, doubtfully. “ One 
identity will become merged in the other — that’s your 
notion 1 ” 

“ Precisely. The fact is, that at first girls are 
really fonder of the idea of loving than they are of 
any particular individual. They are so fond of love 
as a sentiment — as an instinct — that they are ready 
— only too ready, to make the nearest man the object 
of their affection. But if that particular man is placed 
beyond their reach they usually — I don’t say invari- 
ably — find no difficulty in transferring their love to 
another. They have no qualms : they feel that they 
are faithful to the sentiment of loving. And really 
their affections have not changed — the object of their 
affections becomes merged in another — that’s all.” 

352 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ I have always been a busy man, sir,” said Mr. 
Ormsby after a long silence. ‘ ‘ I have never had time 
to study the — the principles of — of what you are talk- 
ing about. But I trust to you. I look to you as a 
sort of — a sort of specialist, if I may be allowed the 
expression; and I am much obliged by the interest 
you take in what concerns me — that’s why I have 
taken the liberty of talking to you about my affairs. 
What a lovely night it is! I suppose we shall reach 
Trinidad early in the morning.” 

I expressed a hope that we should be able to go 
ashore after breakfast, and so we parted. I questioned 
very much if he would be so eager in future to talk 
to me about his daughter and her prospects. 

I got up shortly after sunrise in order to catch a 
glimpse of the imposing entrance to the Gulf of Paria, 
which has for centuries been known as the Boca. 
Columbus, who was the greatest poet that the world 
has ever known — not a weaver of verses, but a man 
whose splendid imagination enabled him to see a world 
where the eyes of the next gifted of humanity saw 
only gray sea and gray mist — looked at everything 
with a poet’s eye in the coasts which he discovered. 
He named the headlands The Dragons when he sailed 
his caravel between them. Possibly he did so with a 
touch of banter against his crew who were perpetually 
seeing dragons and rocs and balls of fire during his 
eventful voyage. One can hear him say: 

‘ ‘ There are your dragons at last, and we are sain 
ing into their very mouths.” 

353 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

He records the fact that he was much awed at the 
first sight of the open Boca. 

And here were we standing in the early morning 
on the bridge of the Amazon looking straight ahead 
to where the dark coast-lands trended together on 
each side of us until there was only a narrow space 
of silver water quivering between the headlands. For 
the middle of this we steered. It did not seem as if 
there would be width enough to allow of our steamer 
squeezing through without scraping the paint off, but 
as we approached the strait appeared to widen. So 
magnificent a gateway is not to be found in any part of 
the Old World. Gibraltar Straits are too wide to give 
to any one the idea of a gateway, and the Hellespont 
is feeble in the impression that it conveys. But the 
Dragon’s Mouth that stood open to swallow us is bare- 
ly three hundred feet wide. Those jaws are not too 
large to allow of our seeing that they wear the ex- 
pression of ferocity all at once. We could see the 
sharp teeth gleaming to right and left, the froth slav- 
ering about them. Then there came the moment when 
the sound of our propeller was echoed back by the 
great flat headlands. Our voices had lost their sea 
sound. We seemed to be within the walls of a stone- 
built room. We were striking the narrow water-pass, 
the rocks towering above us to right and left, the peli- 
cans and other great sea-birds flying slowly past us, 
the waves climbing up the cliffs, and gurgling and 
choking and strangling in the channels of the crags; 
and then we slid slowly through the shadowy tract 
into the mystery of a new sea. 

354 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Immediately on passing the strait the shores on 
both sides opened out before us. They are bold and 
in some plaees bleak, in others clothed from sea to 
summit with low forests. On one side the splendid 
chain dwindles away into the blue haze of the Venez- 
uelan mountains, on the other hand a fainter haze 
hovers far away; but the green slopes of countless 
island-rocks, with azure channels of rippling water 
lapping them, are under our quarter, fragments of 
the cataclysm that broke off Trinidad from the Span- 
ish Main. 

Before we have steamed many miles we notice a 
change in the tint of the water. This great shallow 
Gulf of Paria feels much of the influence of the Ori- 
noco, whose tremendous flood sweeps into it through 
several of the enormous channels of its delta. The 
mouth of the Orinoco is broader than the entire length 
of the Thames from source to estuary. Noticing the 
discoloration of the water, and learning that it is due 
to the output of the ^Orinoco — “ just over there, ” an 
officer says, pointing to the southward — we feel that 
once again Romance has stretched out a friendly 
hand to us. The declamatory lines in Rokeby, 
uttered by that splendid specimen of the adven- 
turer of the sixteenth century, came back to me 
in a flash — 

Where Orinoco in his pride 
Rolls +o the main no tribute tide, N 
But ’gainst broad ocean wages far 
A rival sea of roaring war. 

355 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


While in ten thousand eddies driven 
The billows fling their foam to heaven, 

And the pale pilot seeks in vain 
Where rolls the river, where the main. 

And there was the Orinoco — ‘ ‘ just over there ’ ’ — and 
we were sailing through water swept down by that 
flood from the vast forests which Raleigh hoped to 
penetrate — the forests where Sir Amyas Leigh and 
his companions lost themselves. 

We steamed through the gulf keeping a few miles 
from the Trinidad coast, and soon the distance be- 
came less misty ; a mast or two shot up, the morning 
sunlight touched a white sail. There were signs of 
trade — smoke and the shriek of a steamer-whistle. 
We were nearing Port of Spain, and almost before 
the town was fully defined our anchor was let go. 

A few steamers were around us, and perhaps a 
dozen sailing ships. Some hundred feet to the west 
lay a gray German man-of-war and farther seaward 
a British cruiser. A curious thing of tall masts and 
funny funnels — a perfect type of the absolutely obso- 
lete — which was anchored near to the shore, was said 
to be a Venezuelan gunboat. It was not the one that 
was sunk by the gunner of the Ban Righ — that par- 
ticular one I saw a few days later at La Guayra — 
nor was it the Bolivar — I left the Bolivar safe in 
dock at Barbados, so as it was neither of these, its 
obsoleteness was the only justification for the assump- 
tion that it was Venezuelan. 

Around us were the usual lumbering lighters and 
356 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

alert steam-launches. The day was scorching, but 
except for this we might as well have been in the 
Solent. The distant hills were colorless and the water 
was murky. The town, which was about two miles 
away, had at that distance nothing in common with 
the picturesque ports of the smaller islands. It is 
built on what in municipal exactness of definition is 
termed t£ slob lands,” and these are actually below 
the level of the waters of the roadstead. 

When I landed at Port of Spain in the steam- 
launch I had the gratification of feeling that I was in 
the midst of a highly businesslike place. There was 
something akin to bustle on the quay-side. Lines of 
warehouses with good “ frontages ” gave signs of be- 
ing in working order ; bales and barrels lay scattered 
about the arches of their colonnades — for this district 
of Port of Spain is as much colonnaded as Bologna. 
Tram-cars, some of them electric, were flying about 
with much bell-ringing, and a capital lot of buggies 
only awaited passengers to do a roaring business. 

Nothing could be bleaker or more businesslike 
than these dusty thoroughfares in the region of the 
quays and wharves. Nor could it be said that the 
sight of th6 Jim Crows, the black vultures of the West 
Indies, pecking at some carrion in what a nautical 
friend called the scuppers of the roadway, had an ex- 
hilarating effect upon us. But I must confess that I 
was glad to see a bird on land again, even though it 
was a Jim Crow. With the exception of the dainty 
humming-birds of Barbados, and a gray lory which I 
357 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


saw at St. Thomas, I had not seen an interesting bird 
during our cruise, the fact being that the mongoose, 
so thoughtfully introduced into the islands for the 
destruction of the snakes, having exterminated these 
pests, has become a greater one itself. It has killed off 
most of the wild birds and is now actively engaged in 
exterminating the tame. It has raised the price of 
poultry in the Caribbean. 

The Jim Crow does the work of an entire depart- 
ment of the London County Council, which suits the 
negro very well indeed; for if the bird did not clear 
away the rubbish the negro would have to work ; and 
this cruise of mine caused me to put a new meaning 
upon the figure of speech, “ to work like a nigger.” 
On account of his sanitary services the bird is allowed 
the honor of a double name, and its destruction is for- 
bidden by law. It is large and wears a dark glossy 
plumage ; but it has the slow flight of the true vulture, 
and it is not a thing to make a pet of. 

As soon as we reached the best part of the town we 
found it extremely good. Wide streets are there, well- 
built houses, and the best shops we had seen in the 
West Indies. 

Curiously enough, Mrs. Baker and Miss Baker were 
my companions from the restaurant which goes by the 
name of the Ice House, to the shops which are just 
round the corner. Mrs. Baker had seen that this was 
a town where something useless might be bought, unlike 
the other places at which we had landed where only 
the necessities of life were procurable. She was, how- 
358 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


ever, unequal to the business of doing business without 
protection. She explained to me in a whisper that 
such beauty as Miss Baker’s invariable called for in- 
sult: she had heard the comments of a couple of 
negroes outside a drinking-saloon, and she at once saw 
that Port of Spain was not a place to pass through 
without a male companion. She hoped that I would 
not mind going with her and Miss Baker to a shop 
where passementerie of a high class could be bought. 
They wanted passementerie badly, and some other 
things, she said. 

Now, neither Mrs. Baker nor Miss Baker had been 
so civil to me as to call for remark, but I think that 
they had been more civil to me than to any one else 
aboard the steamer; so they could not ask a favor in 
any other quarter. For myself I had no particular 
wish to go shopping with this pair ; but of course I said 
that I should be pleased to do what I could for them ; 
adding that I really did not think that there was any 
reason for them to be apprehensive of outrage. 

First we had to go to a bookseller’s: Miss Baker 
was anxious to get a high-class magazine published 
by Mr. Butterick, so that she might be kept abreast 
of the movements of the English aristocracy and what 
they were wearing and about to wear. In the shop, 
which, by the way, was the largest bookseller’s I ever 
saw, we found Mr. Krux buying up all the puzzle- 
papers, and the dashing dragoon carrying his mother’s 
purse,. and inquiring for playing-cards. He explained 
to me that they had already worn out four packs of 
359 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


Patience-cards, and if there were many other islands 
to go round, they would need half a dozen more. 

On getting her Butterick, Miss Baker read the 
aristocratic columns to her mother while walking down 
the street, calming her mind by acquainting her with 
the fact that Lady “ Reggie ” O’Callaghan had been 
seen in Bond Street looking very pretty in mauve, 
and that the Duchess of Pimlico had been noticed 
driving in her motor in the company of a picture-hat. 
Several other items, including the news that black 
would be greatly worn in the spring, especially by 
those distinguished families who had suffered bereave- 
ments during the winter, carried us on to a really 
magnificent shop where Miss Baker said passementerie 
was certain to be sold. 

We dallied round the attractions in the windows, 
and entering the shop were met by a shopwalker whose 
adventitious bow was spoiled by the very event which 
should have encouraged it to its noblest efforts; for 
the shop- walker was none other than Mr. Carter, the 
young man who had come out in our steamer and was 
the only one of the passengers whom Mrs. Baker had 
considered worthy to associate on terms of equality 
with Miss Baker. 

The two ladies were standing facing him, almost 
aghast, and the young man himself seemed wishing to 
find a board of the flooring that the ants had under- 
mined so that he could descend unobtrusively to the 
bowels of the basement. He stood there, dumb, flush- 
ing and flustered. 


360 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


And then I did rather a foolish thing, for instead 
of making an endeavor to place the young man at his 
ease by appealing to his professional instincts with an 
inquiry for the passementerie department, I said: 

“ How do you do, Mr. Carter? We have just 
landed. I hope you like Trinidad, ’ ’ and shook hands 
with him. There was no reason why I should do so, 
but Mr. Carter’s emotion had communicated itself to 
me, and I was thoughtless enough to do at that moment 
what I would have done if I had come into the shop 
and met him face to face. 

He said : 

u I am quite well, sir, thank you.” 

The two ladies had not nearly recovered themselves. 

But they did so when Mrs. Heber and Mrs. 
Pritchard entered behind them, with Miss Ormsby and 
Mrs. Krux and Miss Hope in their train, and all stood 
facing Mr. Carter. Then it was that Mrs. Baker and 
Miss Baker, her daughter, looked around for an 
emergency exit, and seeing a swing-door at the other 
end of the shop, made a rush for it — absolutely a rush. 

Of course Mrs. Heber did the right thing, which I 
had failed to do. She said sweetly : 

“ Which is the glove department, if you please? ” 

“ This way, madam,” said the professional Mr. 
Carter, with exactly the right sort of bow. There is 
no profession in which personal appearance and — not 
so much ability as affability count nowadays, except 
that of the shop-walker. If it were not for the shop- 
walker, affability would become one of the lost arts. 
361 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“Forward, gloves! ” cried Mr. Carter firmly but 
courteously to the young mulatto who was at the glove 
counter. He was bowing to the other ladies after he 
had handled a couple of chairs in a masterly fashion, 
so that Mrs. Heber and Mrs. Pritchard might sit — he 
did not urge the sitting, only symbolized it. 

“ Fancy silk scarves? Certainly, madam; just op- 
posite, please. Hat-pins? Up-stairs, if you please. 
Colored embroidery-silks ? This way, madam. Hinde ’s 
curlers? At the end of the shop, please. What can 
I have the pleasure of showing you, madam ? Linen- 
bags? Lady’s or gentleman’s, madam? ” 

A more notable instance of thorough competence 
I never witnessed. Here was this Mr. Carter, whom 
we. had rather sneered at when coming out to Bar- 
bados because we thought that he was merely private 
secretary to a Governor-General or something in that 
way, displaying a thorough acquaintance with the de- 
tails of a topographical scheme which I do not believe 
any one of us could master within a year. 

He had not faltered once ; he had not failed to be 
affable, but he had never become familiar, and his bow 
—I remembered his bow aboard the steamer— had 
been exactly the right sort. It was a bow of self- 
respect. I am confident that if it had come within his 
province to explain to a lady that what Trinidad wears 
to-day, Mayfair will wear to-morrow, he would have 
been quite convincing. 

I never thought more highly of any man — unless 
he were extremely wealthy, like Mr. Pierpont Morgan 
362 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

' than I did of Mr. Carter, and I knew perfectly well 
that Mrs. Heber would tell all over the steamer of the 
very satisfactory, if somewhat brief, interview she had 
with him in this shop, to the glove department of 
which he had brought her with such consummate ease. 
Mrs. Heber hated the Bakers, and I knew that she 
would now feel that she had an opportunity of holding 
them up to ridicule which should not be wasted. It 
may be convenient for me to mention in this place that 
m y judgment of her was not in error. But in justice 
to her I must add that she did all that circumstances 
demanded of her, extremely well. She was a thorough 
artist in the higher walks of spite. 

I did not see the Bakers again that day. They had 
fled from the shop without leaving a trace behind them. 
I went back to the Ice House, but they were not there. 
I did not make a search for them, but chartered a 
buggy to drive up to the Queen’s Park Hotel on the 
Savannah, where I was to lunch. 

I was given a very good chance of seeing something 
of Port of Spain, and I soon found out that the 
negroes of the town have much of the insolence of the 
barbarous Barbadians. The general air of business 
which I had noticed in the neighborhood of the quays, 
was not absent from the higher parts of the town, and 
I found out some exceedingly good shops where a 
brisk trade seemed to be doing. 

The Savannah is a little more than two miles from 
the town — it is a little more than three when computed 
by the cyclometrical buggy-driver. It is a magnificent 
363 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


open space, with cricket-grounds, and lawn-tennis- 
courts, bordered by splendid palms and mangoes. 
Around it are quite a number of delightful villas each 
of which nestles among its own trees — gigantic cab- 
bage-palms, oleanders, and the curious cannon-ball- 
trees, the fruit of which is the shape of the cannon- 
balls which one must look for in museums in these 
days. 

On the Savannah I was for the first time made 
aware of the effect of the coolie population who play 
such an important part in Trinidad and the English 
colonies on the Spanish Main. I saw numbers of these 
turbaned Orientals on the outskirts of the park, and 
on one part where the grass was very green there was 
a herd of Hindoo cattle, black and white— the latter 
carefully attended to by an aged Bengali. 

Just beyond the green the slope of the hill begins. 
It is almost a mountain, and is densely wooded to the 
summit. The Botanical Gardens and the gardens of 
Government House are just at the foot of this lovely 
slope, and, as might be expected, they are the finest to 
be found at any of the islands. The bamboos are 
specially worthy of notice, thousands of them being at 
least fifty feet in height. I never saw better specimens 
in Burma. 

To name the tropical growths of any of these 
islands would be equivalent to making a catalogue of 
the arboriculture of the West Indies, but it would not 
convey the least idea of the luxuriant effect of the 
foliage mingling with the flowering shrubs. Kingsley 
364 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


lived in these gardens and gave us some pictures of 
them which for vividness have never been surpassed. 
I remembered reading them in Good Words when a 
boy and I recollected the impression which they pro- 
duced upon me. I can not do more than say that 
exactly the same impression was produced upon my 
mind when I wandered among these gardens in the 
paths that Kingsley trod. I felt myself saying as I 
had said before : 


“ At last! ” 

During the first half-hour that one spends in Trini- 
dad one feels that nothing could compensate one for 
living here. I confess that that was how I felt; but 
strolling through the gardens and breathing of the 
lovely air of the Savannah — air that seems saturated 
with sunshine I felt that the place had its compensa- 
tions. 


This opinion was consolidated when I had driven 
round the central green park to a delightful hotel, the 
management of which gave promise of a dainty 
lunch. Large, cool dining-rooms, both in the cen- 
ter of the building and under a broad-roofed and 
well-palmed veranda, told their own tale: Trinidad 
has more appreciative visitors than has any other 
island. 


I had just ordered lunch, beginning with iced 
grape-fruit and going on to fiying-fish, sea eggs, and 
other local delicacies, when I became aware of the fact 
that Miss Croysdale was seated with a party at one of 
the veranda tables. The party consisted of Conrad 
24 365 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


and two strangers— one a greatly bronzed man who 
was plainly a soldier, the other a lady who was several 
years older than Miss Croysdale and of a matronly 
appearance. 

Miss Croysdale ’s face was beaming as she held up 
a finger to me. I went to her side. 

“ I want so much to present Major Eichmond to 
you,” she said. “ Major Eichmond and Mrs. Mark- 
ham. ’ ’ 

The strangers shook hands with me and Miss 
Croysdale asked me to have my plate brought to her 
table, saying that they had only just begun their 
lunch. Why should I sit at a solitary table ? 

Mrs. Markham was quite ready to talk. Of course 
she inquired if this was my first visit to Trinidad, and 
having heard that I had been on shore for two hours, 
she was very anxious to know what I thought of the 
place. She told me that she knew Trinidad thoroughly 
(naming the Government office which her husband 
filled) . She hoped that Miss Croysdale would like the 
year she had to spend here. 

“ Is Miss Croysdale going to remain a year? ” I 
inquired. Like every one else aboard the steamer I 
had taken for granted that she was going the whole 
cruise with us. 

“ Major Eichmond has only to serve another year, 
and then he will get home, ’ ’ she replied. ‘ ‘ Don ’t you 
think that it was very sporting of Meta to come out 
here to be married ? ’ 9 

“ I always thought it most sporting of her/’ I re- 
366 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

plied, hoping that I had not betrayed my surprise 
very conspicuously. 

“ course it was her botanical craze that im- 
pelled her to come out , 11 said Mrs. Markham. “ I al- 
ways affirm that she put the flowers first and Major 
Richmond second. Would she have made the tour of 
the Northern islands if it had not been so? She is 
staying with me until the happy event takes place next 
month . 1 ’ 

I could see that although Meta was engaged in an 
earnest conversation with Major Richmond and young 
Conrad, she was well aware of the fact that Mrs. Mark- 
ham and I were talking about her. I could see her 
glancing, with a very sweet expression of uneasiness, 
in my direction. She was not quite sure that I would 
consider her justified in keeping her engagement to 
Major Richmond a secret from every one aboard the 
steamer. But she need have had no misgiving on this 
point. In the first place it mattered nothing to her 
what I might think on the matter, and in the second 
place I thought there was something distinctly sporting 
in taking in Mrs. Heber. Mrs. Heber had taken her 
up during some days of the cruise, but when it oc- 
curred to Mrs. Heber that Conrad was finding out how 
attractive Miss Croysdale was, she had taken up Mr. 
Conrad instead. It so happened, however, that Con- 
rad was the one person aboard the steamer in whom 
the girl had confided, and both he and she had many 
a laugh together over the “ taking-up ” tactics of 
Mrs. Heber. 


367 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

When she had gathered that Mrs. Markham had 
explained to me everything that needed an explana- 
tion, Miss Croysdale turned to me and began to talk 
very pleasantly. I remarked to her that although we 
had been together every day for nearly a month, we 
had never discoursed on her prospects for the imme- 
diate future. 

“We always found more entertaining topics, did 
we not? ” said she. “ My prospects are not vast. We 
are to be married next month some time, and mean- 
time I am staying with my cousin, Mrs. Markham. 
At the end of the year we go home and settle down. 
That’s all! ” 

“ Of course you are only marrying him to have 
an opportunity of thoroughly studying the botany 
of the West Indies? ” said I. 

“ Solely,” she whispered. “ To be sure, I found 
out how easily I might have studied it under other 
auspices, but then it was too late.” 

“ It is idle to repine,” said I. 

“ That is what I feel, so I don’t give myself up 
to that form of idleness,” said she with a charming 
assumption of gravity. 

“ Whatever your prospects may be, Major Rich- 
mond’s are roseate,” said I. “ And if you drive with 
me to the coolie quarter I’ll buy you the prettiest 
bit of silver in the village.” 

After lunch we got buggies, and under the guid- 
ance of Major Richmond, explored the coolie village. 
The huts of which it is composed are rather better 
368 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


than those of the negroes in the other islands. The 
broad road that is bordered by these habitations is a 
perfect bit of Orissa in the Occident. Little gardens 
of vegetables as untidily kept as any that one sees 
on the outskirts of one of the smaller towns in the 
Bengal Presidency, are at the side and in the rear 
of the cabins, and, as usual, mighty mangoes whirl 
their foliage over the roofs. At intervals above the 
mangoes great cabbage-palms tower. On the veran- 
das naked children swarm by the dozen, old men wear- 
ing turbans, but little else, squat; unhealthy-looking 
women with pained expressions on their faces hang 
out the rags, and dyspeptic-looking fowls run about, 
picking up ants and other insects. There should be 
no lack of insect life in this particular region. 

There are probably a dozen silver-workers on the 
roadside. The stock in trade of each consists of a 
string of ornaments — bangles, rings, necklets, and the 
like, roughly made but interesting in their own way. 
The workers have but few tools, but they make the 
most of them, and they do not ask ridiculous prices 
for anything. We had no trouble in negotiating for 
a few souvenirs, and Miss Croysdale chose a trifle for 
herself. 

I said good-by to her and her fiance in the town, 
and went aboard our steamer with Conrad. It was 
when we were in the steam-launch that he mentioned 
to me that Miss Croysdale had told him some time 
before that she was going out to Trinidad to marry 
Major Richmond. 


369 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


‘ ‘ She is a very good girl, ’ ’ said he — ‘ ‘ I don ’t be- 
lieve that they make any better. Yon see she had a 
suspicion that I was on the way to — to make a fool 
of myself, and, by George! I’m not sure that she 
wasn’t right. But don’t you go away thinking that 
I was ready to drown myself when I heard her story. 
I give you my word, whether you believe me or not, 
that I had no feeling except of good-will for her and 
the chap she’s going to marry, and that’s just how 
I feel at this moment. ’ ’ 

And that was just how I, too, felt at that mo- 
ment. 

Next island — Tobago. 


370 


CHAPTER XXVI 


Tobago we found to be an ideal tropical island — 
the loveliest pearl of the string. The vegetation of 
the low slope is that of a garden rather than of a 
forest; but the palms along the shore grow as close 
together as do rushes in a marsh. The first glimpse 
that I had of the place enchanted me, and after ex- 
ploring its beauties for the greater part of the day, 
I came to the conclusion that though we had visited 
islands with more imposing features, there was not 
one that was more typical of the special charms which 
have ever been associated with the sylvan scenery of 
the West Indies. 

It has long been taken for granted that Tobago 
is the island which Defoe had in his mind when he 
wrote Robinson Crusoe, and I think that there can 
hardly be a doubt that the conclusion come to on this 
point is correct. Of course Defoe knew all about 
Juan Fernandez, but his object was not to write the 
story of Alexander Selkirk, but of a very different 
man. It was probably during his visit to Spain that 
he heard a good deal about the islands off the Spanish 
Main, and of the effect of the currents off the delta 
of the Orinoco. Tobago answers in every respect to 
the island which he drew, and I think that it is the 
only one that can be so described. To be sure, Tobago 
371 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

at that time was not uninhabited, but even if it had 
been so, it would have been impossible for a ship- 
wrecked sailor to escape the notice of the scores of 
passing ships, to say nothing of the buccaneers; but 
these considerations do not interfere with the proba- 
bilities that Defoe, hearing Tobago described, built 
up Crusoe’s island on this foundation. If he had not 
referred to the influence of the Great River, it might 
be said that any island in the Caribbean would, just 
as well as Tobago, have suggested to Defoe the island 
which his imagination dealt with; but I could not 
agree with such a contention. I saw no island during 
my cruise that answered in every particular to Cru- 
soe’s except Tobago. 

Moreover, there is a cave in this island and it is 
called “ Crusoe’s Cave”! Most visitors desire no 
further evidence of its identity. 

The little town, which is named Scarborough, is 
not built close to the shore, but some distance up the 
slope. The main street runs up from the coast, not 
parallel with it. There is also a neat square market- 
place with a pump — exactly as one finds in an old 
English village that has not been regenerated on un- 
picturesque but sanitary principles by a fussy Coun- 
ty Council. 

Climbing the slope just above the town, we found 
ourselves in Devonshire. Lovely green lanes branched 
off the road in every direction, some steep, others 
straggling, all knee-deep in grasses and wild flowers 
and roofed m places with foliage as dense as that of 
372 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

the chestnut or the beech. And unlike the other island 
paradises of these waters, the lanes rang with the 
songs of birds, and butterflies — splendid floating or- 
chids fluttered from blossom to blossom. Only here 
and there does one meet with a giant growth of tall, 
fernlike leaves, to remind one that the island is in 
the tropics. 

Up we walked — it was no toil, the slope was so 
gentle — from green lane to green lane, full of the de- 
light of the friendly foliage and the songs of the 
birds, until we came upon the bastions of the old 
fort. A few yards farther on there flashed upon 
us the full length of the other coast of the island — 
the full length of the drowsy-breaking wave among 
the low rocks. The picture was a splendid one. 

After breakfast we were tempted to hire ponies 
— there are eight or nine on the island — to make an 
excursion to a certain waterfall in the interior. In 
spite of the fact that my pony possessed certain pe- 
culiarities of gait which I never fully mastered, and 
a mouth that could only be controlled by a steam- 
winch, I never had a more inspiring ride. The road 
we found marvelously good; it is a legacy from 
the French who held the island during the greater 
part of the eighteenth century. It slopes very grad- 
ually upward and runs for some miles along the brink 
of a broad, irregular valley densely overgrown on both 
sides with palms, bread-fruits, mangoes, flowering 
aloes, oleanders, cactus, and cocoa. Among these, 
which grow as profusely as heather on a mountain 
373 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


moor, are huge splashes of flaming hibiscus and orange 
masses of hois immortelle. 

Such panoramas of color as came before us were 
quite bewildering, and the joy of all was immeasur- 
ably increased by the presence of the birds. They 
sang around us on every hand and now and again 
showed themselves among the foliage. The chief song- 
ster was, I think, a glossy bluebird about the size of 
a thrush. More brilliant were the silent ones. I no- 
ticed a splendid lory, a beautiful thing with a golden 
crest, and numbers of humming-birds, some with the 
two long, drooping feathers like remnants of purple 
satin ravelings curving from their tails. 

For nearly two hours we rode along that valley, 
curving with its curves, until it seemed as if we had 
reached the highest point of the island. Passing num- 
bers of negro-huts and some cocoa-plantations, we 
reached a narrower road, sloping irregularly in the 
direction of a small stream, and following the course 
of a broad ravine. Before we had gone more than 
half a mile we saw the silver gleam of a waterfall in 
the distance. Dismounting, we forced our way through 
the dense undergrowth and quickly came upon the 
blue basin which was the object of our journey. It 
was, of course, not worth going a hundred yards to 
see, but all that we had seen on our way to it was 
worth a journey of five thousand miles. 

Mrs. Heber had no great devotion to open-air scen- 
ery — she frankly admitted that she liked a play with 
374 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


good scenery ; but she had brought a riding-habit with 
her, and when she heard that there was a side-saddle 
on one of the ponies she promptly booked it. We 
all agreed with what we knew to be her opinion re- 
garding the effectiveness of her appearance in a habit. 
The pony was not worthy of her, neither was the cav- 
alcade. 

I had no trouble in persuading my animal to lag 
behind. I felt sure that he could have given me 
lessons in artistic lagging. I was by the side of a 
very sweet and interesting companion. But returning 
to the coast it was my duty to tighten the girths (for 
the third time) of her saddle: these Creole ponies 
seem to possess the power to alter their circumferences 
at will — their own will, not the will of their riders 
— and by the time that I had dug out an additional 
hole in the leather, the others of the cavalcade had 
ridden on a considerable way and I was left to follow 
with Mrs. Heber. 

She was very entertaining now, as she was at all 
times. It was of the Bakers she talked at the outset — 
the Bakers and the pride which Miss Baker had shown 
by reason of the attention paid to her by Mr. Carter 
during the voyage. How she had snubbed every one 
aboard the steamer, admitting to the privilege of her 
society Mr. Carter only! 

‘ ‘ Could anything have been more foolish than the 
flight of the mother and daughter at our entrance ? ’ ’ 
cried my companion. “ But why did we not witness 
the meeting between the girl and the privileged young 
375 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

man ? These kind of people have no presence of mind. 
I felt sure that they would not return to the steamer. 
If they had had the least sensitiveness they would 
have remained at Trinidad and never shown their 
faces in the saloon. Every one seemed to know of 
the thing when I came aboard in the evening.” 

I knew that Mrs. Heber ’s coming aboard the steam- 
er had synchronized with the diffusion of a good deal 
of information regarding the meeting of Mr. Carter 
and Miss Baker ; but I said nothing, only that it ap- 
peared to me that Mr. Carter had shown himself to 
be a most competent young man in his business, and 
that his bow had acted according to specification and, 
like the balance-wheel of a good chronometer, with- 
out any regard for temperature. Whatever conflict 
of emotions may have been within his breast, his bow 
had worked with unfailing regularity. 

But I knew that it was not of Mr. Carter that Mrs. 
Heber was anxious to talk. The topic was a sort of 
Buy Lopez opening— good enough to be responded to 
with mechanical precision : it was really of Miss Croys- 
dale that she wished to speak. She told me with per- 
fect gravity that she did not think that Miss Croysdale 
had behaved at all well in respect of young Conrad. 

She may deny it, but I could see that she was 
encouraging that nice boy to make a fool of himself, ’ ’ 
said Mrs. Heber, and there was on her face the ex- 
pression of a professional moralist whose delicate 
sense of right has undergone a severe shock, and in 
her voice a sort of sadness that such things could be. 

376 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

“ I did my best with her— I have nothing to re- 
proach myself with. i Girls who are engaged can not 
be too careful, my dear/ I told her. But I fear that 
my remonstrance was not taken by her in the spirit 
in which I offered it. That was why I considered it 
to be my duty to keep them apart. Of course I am 
old enough to act as I did without causing remark. 
I have always had great influence over boys of Mr. 
Conrad's age, and no punishment would be too great 
for me if I failed to exercise it for their good. I 
have my reward." 

“ I do not doubt it," said I. “ The position has 
its compensations." 

“ The consciousness of having done my duty — of 
having averted a scandal — perhaps a real disaster — 
that is my reward," said Mrs. Heber with the serenity 
of an angel fresh from Carrara. 

It was just when I had heard this testimony to 
the amount of bonus — to borrow a suitable business- 
term the exact equivalent to which is not to be found 
in the vocabulary of ethics — accruing from a sense 
of well-doing, that my pony, hitherto almost domestic 
in its tranquillity, developed something of the spirit 
of the fiery mustang, and set off at a gallop that would 
not be restrained. By the time that I had brought it 
to a standstill and Mrs. Heber had overtaken me, the 
topic of Miss Croysdale and the advantages of being 
able to influence young men for their good, had been 
jolted into the depths of the valley. We spoke of 
the landscape, the butterflies, the birds, and dis- 
377 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

cussed some theories to account for the milk in the 
coconut. 

I did not think that it would show good taste on 
my part were I to remind my companion how she had 
come to me some time before with the tale of the evil 
designs of young Mr. Conrad, which might cause Miss 
Croysdale a great deal of unhappiness, and of Mrs. 
Heber’s resolution to do all that it behooved one good 
woman to do for the protection of a weaker sister. 

We returned to the little wharf by a somewhat 
different route from that taken by the others of the 
party, passing by some charming private gardens, and 
being more impressed than ever by this exquisite 
island. 

When we reached the steamer Mr. Burling was tell- 
ing a select audience one of his stories. A naturalist 
who had been making a collection, after the manner 
of naturalists, at Tobago, was coming on with us to 
Venezuela, and Mr. Burling was giving him a good 
deal of trustworthy information respecting the pecu- 
liarities of some birds which he had met in various 
parts of the world. 

He had come to the ostrich. 

The queerest story I ever heard about an os- 
trich; I would never have believed it if it had not 
been verified in all its details by independent wit- 
nesses,” said he. “ It was during the Matabele cam- 
paign, a small band of colonials were holding a zareba 
against overwhelming odds: their ammunition was 
running short, but the enemy’s fire did not slacken. 

378 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

They had just come to the last dozen of their car- 
tridges and were thinking of a sortie, when one of the 
enemy’s bullets shot an ostrich — the zareba was close 
to an ostrich-farm — and the bird fell with a crash 
on the ground and literally broke in two, and out of 
its stomach there rolled as many Lee-Metford car- 
tridges as would have made a whole package. In an 
instant every man of that devoted little band had 
filled his bandolier and in a quarter of an hour the 
Matabeles were beaten off. It was found out when 
they were calm enough to make a dispassionate in- 
quiry, that a package of Lee-Metford cartridges had 
been seen lying under a wagon a day or two before, 
and it had also been observed that the ostrich was 
walking heavily. Ah, sir, at times we are disposed 
to talk lightly of the ways of Providence, hut when 
men have had some of my experiences they are not 
given to levity over serious matters.” 

After our first week with Burling we did not even 
draw a long breath when he drew a long how, and 
not an incredulous whistle was heard when, that same 
evening, Professor Dugdale caught what was pro- 
nounced by the highest local authority to be a cat-fish, 
and Mr. Burling disputed its identity. 

“ It’s not a real cat-fish,” he affirmed. “ You 
can only catch a real cat-fish by baiting your hook 
with a mouse ; and when one is caught, it will sit up 
on the rail and mew for half an hour.” 


379 


CHAPTER XXVII 


Mr. Ormsby conveyed to me in a fearful whisper 
the news that Jaffray had had an interview with him 
and had boldly asked his permission to “ pay his ad- 
dresses ”■ — he loved that odious phrase and harped 
on it continuously — to Myra. 

“ Then all will come right/’ I cried, cheerily. I 
thought that that stuff which I had talked to him 
about merging identities would prevent him from 
ever again choosing me for a confidant, but I saw 
that he could not resist opening his heart to some one, 
and he had begun with me. 

“ All will come right? ” he repeated after me. 
“ Well, I hope so,” he added, shaking his head. “ I 
thought it my duty to tell the young man how matters 
stand — how her mother had suggested this voyage to 
divert her mind from— from— an unfortunate attach- 
ment. ’ ’ 

I laughed — I could not help it. 

“ And what did he say to that remark? ” I asked. 

“ He took it in very good part — he laughed — just 
as you have laughed,” he replied. “ I thought that 
rather noble of him — to treat the whole affair in that 
off-hand way— as if it were the merest trifle. He’ll 
know better when he has talked to Myra. She’ll make 
380 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

him acquainted with some of her sentiments — they arc 
all so sentimental, these young things ! She ’ll tell him 
of the immortality of love — how impossible it is for 
any one to change their affections — all that sort of 
thing — she lectured me about it when I told her that 
we were coming on this cruise. She is the best little 
girl in the world, I will say that — but she has her 
sentiments. ’ ’ 

“ Believe me, Mr. Ormsby, she is none the worse 
for that,” said I. “ And you will find that when the 
important moment arrives she will come to a right 
decision. ’ ’ 

“ He is in a good position — a barrister with a 
growing practise and some private means — he told 
me all,” said Mr. Ormsby. “ And so straight— noth- 
ing underhand about him! Oh, surely she must see 
that such an offer does not come every day, even when 
a girl is an heiress. I’m not an oil-king nor a com- 
pany promoter, but I can give my little girl enough 
to live upon — without economy. That’s what made 
me' afraid that some fellow — but if she acts now as 
you say you believe she will, that danger will be gone 
forever. ’ 9 

“ I don’t say that she’ll jump at this Mr. Jaffray 
all at once,” said I. “No; you see she’ll be so 
startled — but he is not the man to mind a rebuff or 
two.” 

“ I hope not. But he may have self-respect.” 

“ Not he. Don’t fancy that any man will let any 
foolish self-respect stand between him and a good 
25 381 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

thing. No ; I am convinced that his self-respect will 
induce him to persevere in his suit until it is suc- 
cessful. ’ ’ 

“ I am much obliged to you for such encourage- 
ment. She has talked with you. You have never 
heard her express any special distaste for J affray ? ’ ’ 

“ Never. Although almost every one aboard has 
remarked that Jaffray was very well informed, Miss 
Ormsby never did so in my hearing. That fact is 
distinctly encouraging. ’ ’ 

Mr. Ormsby looked puzzled. 

“ I should have thought — ” he began, but then 
he shook his head. “ Well, well,” he said, “ we can 
only wait. But he — shouldn’t you say that he was 
a very well-informed man? ” 

“ Undoubtedly; but I wouldn’t say it to your 
daughter,” I replied. 

He looked more puzzled than ever. 

i 1 Maybe not — maybe not,” he said in a tone of 
complete resignation. 

We talked no further at that time. I began to 
wish that I had not been associated with the plot to 
secure the happiness of this simple-hearted gentle- 
man. 

We had left Tobago and were steaming for La 
Guayra, the port of Caracas, coasting the long island 
of La Margarita for several hours. So far as I could 
gather this is an island at which no mail steamer 
calls. But it played at one time a rather prominent 
382 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

part in the history of the Spanish Main. It was to 
La Margarita that the ill-fated English contingent 
of the “ patrittic party ” of Venezuela were sent in 
1816 to await the development of affairs on the Main ; 
and it was here that the English learned for the first 
time what was meant by a “patriotic party” in those 
latitudes. There was no commissariat and not the 
smallest attempt had been made to provide sleeping- 
places for the visitors, who were, consequently obliged 
to forage for themselves. Unfortunately the place was 
not one that admitted of the carrying out of any gen- 
erous system of foraging, and the result was that the 
English regiments were starved. When the survivors 
were shifted to the Main they found matters even 
worse than they were on the island, for they were not 
merely starved, they were poisoned by malaria as well. 
The story of their sufferings put a check upon the 
revolutionary ardor of the English nation for a good 
many years. 

A long range of mountains, rugged and precipit- 
ous, with mists blowing about them, came into view 
in the early dawn ; but hours elapsed before we could 
discern in which of the many long bays bounded by 
black cliffs the port of La Guayra was situated. We 
had steamed into the shadow of the loftiest of the 
chain of mountains and then we became aware of the 
flags flying from the three yellow forts, each perched 
half-way up a hill to the right and left over the dirty 
yellow houses of a town that straggled in terraces for 
a couple of hundred feet above the beach of stones, 
383 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


and then spread itself abroad very thinly along the 
curve of the bay. This was the port of La Guayra, 
for centuries renowned in history and in fiction as 
one of the gateways to El Dorado. 

We could not help wondering what the estate must 
be that had so unpromising a gateway to it. 

Without the breakwater the shelter for ships in 
the harbor would be meager indeed; but English 
money has built up this protection on a fine scale, and 
steamers of three thousand tons can run alongside 
the quay within the breakwater and discharge their 
cargo into the wagons of the Caracas railway, which 
has also been made by English engineers with English 
money. 

There is little inducement for any one to stay at 
La Guayra, and happily the train for the capital starts 
so early as to relieve one from so odious a prospect. 
So scrupulous, however, are the authorities of this 
model state, to maintain the high reputation which 
Venezuela has won for itself, against the possible con- 
tamination of any elements of disorder, they put a 
veto upon the landing of any one whose character can 
not be guaranteed. Those of the passengers of the 
Amazon who were arrogant enough to believe that 
this proscription did not apply to them, and who were 
desirous of visiting Caracas, had to send their names 
ashore to be subjected to the supervision of the Gov- 
ernment. 

After a brief delay we learned that the Censor 
had paid us the high compliment of judging that the 
384 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


integrity of the State would not be jeopardized by 
our presence ; we were granted permission to visit the 
capital for two days only • at the expiration of that 
time we were to report ourselves to the local author- 
ity. It was gratifying to some of us to hear the word 
“ authority ” in connection with Venezuela. We were 
under the impression that it did not exist in the offi« 
cial vocabulary. 

The railway station is roomy enough; and the 
rolling-stock good enough, the carriages being made 
on the Pullman Car principle, with a central corridor. 
Shortly after the advertised hour we started on one 
of the most picturesque railway journeys in the world. 
The railway up Mont Pilatus gives one many glorious 
glimpses, that to La Turbie is full of the charm of 
the Mediterranean, and the line from Visp to Zer- 
matt, via Stalden, is picturesque, but not one of these 
is, I think, comparable with the zigzag climb from 
ridge to ridge of these mountains of the Venezuelan 
coast. 

The grandeur of the immense valleys that open 
out to the sea is inexpressible. They are for the most 
part rugged and bare, or covered only with a short 
brown scrub. But when we had climbed a thousand 
feet or so above the blue Caribbean that stretched out 
into the hazy distance, we found ourselves skirting 
the ridges of irregular ravines overgrown with vegeta- 
tion of the most luxuriant sort in every direction. 
We were lost among the ranges of gray and green 
slopes, billowing into the vast distance. Hill crushed 
385 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


upon hill, huge ridges flung themselves across black 
chasms, tremendous landslips changed the slope of 
gorges, and every now and again we plunged into a 
mountainous pass between sheer cliff-walls — roofless 
tunnels a hundred feet high — every now and again 
we faced panoramas of valley and peak swathed in 
mist — every now and again we climbed round grand 
curves on the edge of precipices a thousand feet of 
sheer drop. 

The valleys were only here and there rich in color. 
Here and there brilliant patches of vegetation ap- 
peared, but for the greater part of the journey the 
mountains were gray and olive. The effect of a curi- 
ous orange growth over the face of many of the cliffs 
was vivid. I have seen the same lichen — if it is lichen 
— on some of the hills on the island of St. Helena. 
Half-way up those peaks known as Lot and Lot ’s wife 
it is most apparent. 

Before we had gone very far an official entered 
our carriage carrying with him a visitors ’ book for 
our signatures and addresses. Considering the jolt- 
ing of the train, I fear that the calligraphy on one of 
the pages of the volume would not materially increase 
the wisdom of any of the officials of the State. But 
it became plain that there was another collector of 
autographs in the place, for half an hour later a sec- 
ond official visited us with a sheaf of papers ruled 
just as the autograph-album had been ruled, and once 
more we had to sign our names and give our ad- 
dresses. Happily the collectors were not exacting: 

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we were not asked to say what was our favorite 
flower. 

The distance from La Guayra to Caracas is, I be- 
lieve, something under sixteen miles, so that the two 
hours which the journey occupied can not be called 
excessive, when the grades are taken into considera- 
tion. We arrived in brilliant sunshine, the sunshine 
of the two or three fine days which we have during 
an English June — bright and at the same time full 
of freshness and coolness. The air was like that of 
the Transvaal: the two plateaux are about the same 
height above the sea-level. With ordinary precautions 
Caracas should be the healthiest city in the world, 
and the most delightful city to live in from one end 
of the year to the other. It is a great misfortune 
that the opportunity for capturing the whole State 
of Venezuela was not taken by Great Britain two hun- 
dred years ago. It seems to be the fate of our coun- 
try to spend millions of pounds and to sacrifice thou- 
sands of lives to acquire swamps. Practically the 
best-known breeding-grounds of malaria are in the 
hands of the British; the salubrious regions are in 
the hands of the other powers. Under British rule 
Caracas might be a paradise, but being in the hands 
of the Venezuelans it is the center of Castro and other 
forms of corruption. 

The railway terminus is considerably over a mile 
from the center of the city; there is, however, a kind 
of service of tram-cars which seems to be a great con- 
venience to the negro population. Nearly all the seats 
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in the car into which I forced myself were occupied 
by negroes ; but as the car was only roofed over, being 
open at the sides, this did not matter much. When 
we had got clear of the narrow streets and had reached 
the principal thoroughfare we had a chance of seeing 
how beautiful of situation is the city. It lies in the 
hollow of a shallow basin, made by a chain of distant 
hills whose soft blue summits mingle with the deli- 
cate azure of the sky in whatsoever direction one may 
turn one’s eyes. The atmosphere is exquisitely trans- 
parent, so that every building, however dilapidated 
it may be, seems beautiful. 

Caracas — its full name is Santiago de Leon de 
Caracas — has been somewhere alluded to as the Paris 
of South America. What this means is wholly de- 
pendent on the receptiveness of the person who hears 
it called so. It may mean that it is a very wicked 
place, that the women are well dressed, and that the 
hotel charges are extremely high. It seems to me to 
resemble Paris most conspicuously in regard to this 
last. Still there is a good deal that is nickel-plated 
about it. The city is distinctly Spanish, and to be 
distinctly Spanish is to be, in South America, dis- 
tinctly squalid. The inhabitants suggest Spaniards 
who are down on their luck and evermore on the 
lookout for some one who will improve their surround- 
ings for them. There is a large amount of shoddy 
dignity about the women, who wear their imitation- 
lace mantillas with all the coquettish grace of the 
Carmen chorus or a cigar-box picture. Their style 
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would be quite captivating if it were associated with 
good looks. As it is, it is quite preferable, I think, 
to the same element among the negresses of Marti- 
nique. 

There is a certain brigandish swagger about the 
majority of the male population; though when one 
reaches the chief street and the square, one meets with 
an occasional Spaniard possessing all the character- 
istics of the true Castilian — dignity, courtesy, and a 
desire to walk upright. Beggars are to be found in 
all the streets — women and men, negroes and mulat- 
tos ; nearly all are well aware of the professional value 
of a perfectly nude infant. The negation of clothing 
adds, I admit, to the interest of a photographic nega- 
tive. The mothers have a fixed charge for submitting 
the nakedness of their offspring to the Kodak. 

The business houses and the shops in the princi- 
pal streets are on a good scale, and there seems to be 
business doing; but, as usual, at this great center of 
the chocolate trade, it is difficult to get a decent piece 
of chocolate, and the price of the inferior stuff is about 
equal to the best procurable in England. I failed to 
make a purchase of anything that might be considered 
characteristic of Caracas. We fancied that a set of 
cane baskets, eighteen in all, one fitting inside another, 
was of local manufacture, but when I had bought it 
I learned that the baskets were all imported. 

The central square is the pride of the city. It is 
large and imposing, and it has many pleasing features. 
The ornamentation of the buildings which surround 
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the gardens, with an equestrian statue of Bolivar in 
the center, is quite noteworthy. The Chamber of 
Deputies stands here. It resembles the Town Hall 
of a small provincial town in England, only the col- 
umns in the large open piazza at the entrance are so 
badly painted in imitation of marble that the humblest 
provincial house-decorator would be ashamed of them. 
We found the same coarsely painted imitation marble 
pillars and walls in various public places throughout 
the city. After all they were no worse, except in the 
matter of technique, than some of the painted marble 
tombs one sees in the most magnificent of Italian cathe- 
drals, or than the roof in the interior of Milan Cathe- 
dral, which is painted to imitate an elaborate scheme 
of carving, and is a daily deception to people who see 
it above the great cross at the grand altar. 

After partaking of the worst lunch of my matur- 
ity, at the hotel which has the name of being the best 
in the place, I hired a carriage and drove round the 
city. But it would be wrong of me to dismiss the 
lunch with only a general and comparative condemna- 
tion. There was not an item on the menu that was 
not quite abhorrent. We might have fancied that the 
soup was the water in which the dishes of the night 
before were washed, had we not had sufficient evi- 
dence that such an operation had not taken place. 
The fish was cooked on no recognized system. With- 
out the rancid sauce it would have been simply de- 
testable, but with the rancid sauce it took a high place 
among criminalities of cuisine. The fish was followed 
390 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


by some curiosities. I will yield to no one in my ad- 
miration of Spanish leather- work, but I object to it 
in the form of an entree. 

If an attempt had not been made to cheat me in 
my wine I should not feel so bitterly about my lunch. 
But one resents being made the subject of a scheme 
of fraud that would not deceive a child. To be treat- 
ed as a fool by a South American Spaniard is an in- 
dignity indeed. 

Driving round the city one can not fail to be 
struck by the strenuous efforts made by the people 
to keep their past ever before their eyes; and all on 
the most economical principles. The commemorative 
arches and statues are plentiful, but paltry. Most of 
the people whom they commemorate were either pa- 
triots, or — just the opposite — presidents. But every 
president has not robbed the Exchequer and escaped 
to Europe : some have been shot before they got there, 
others had statues erected in their honor before they 
were found out. 

The Pantheon, which I visited, was in its early 
days a church. It is a simple building of such size 
as presupposes a long line of assassinated presidents 
in the future. The monuments erected to those who 
have been shot in the past have their ethical value: 
they act as a solemn warning to such people as have 
ambitions to be president. It could not but add to 
the bitterness of death to know that after death comes 
the judgment — and a possible monument. Most of the 
statues are made of that soft sort of stone which Ital- 
391 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


ians carve with a penknife and a file. Several of the 
patriotic fingers are missing, which seems rather a 
pity, considering the important part played by patri- 
otic fingers intent on presidential pickings. There is 
also missing no inconsiderable portion of that alabaster 
veneer which is spread over a packing-case to make 
it look as like a pure Greek sarcophagus as is com- 
patible with a meager subscription-list. In one fine 
group, which is as full of symbolism as a modern 
sham Celtic poem, Liberty is shown holding out an 
empty sardine tin to a Hero— perhaps Bolivar, per- 
haps the Genius of Venezuela. It would be interest- 
ing to know if Bolivar was partial to the sardine, or 
is it suggested that the future of the country is de- 
pendent on the liberal use of this handy comestible? 

There is plenty of space reserved for future pa- 
triots, and the keeper of these records will doubtless 
be as eloquent in his account of their assassinations 
as he is in telling of the heroes with the missing fin- 
ger-joints and the broken noses. 

It is not far from the Pantheon to the Presidencv 
—if I were to say that it is not far from the Presi- 
dency to the Pantheon, I might be misunderstood. 
The official residence of President Castro is a sensible 
building, with no suggestion of a palace about it. It 
is the most purely Spanish edifice in the city. Having 
obtained permission to visit the interior, I found a 
good deal to admire. It is distinctly Moorish in re- 
gard to the design of some of the open courts, and the 
walls are covered with the freshest of frescoes, very 
392 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

much after the style of a cheap Italian restaurant. 
The pillars of the patio are also painted to imitate 
rare marbles, but with such conscientious badness that 
no one could possibly be deceived in them. 

The furniture of the place is the purest Tottenham 
Court Road — south end. On Swiss-carved easels are 
placed several German-framed cabinet portraits of the 
President and his wife. It was, however, when we 
went out to admire the little garden-court round which 
the patio is built, after the manner of Spanish country 
houses, that we had the greatest treat of the day. 
President Castro was presiding at a Cabinet Council 
in one of the rooms opening into the court, and an 
attendant gave the door a push to enable us to witness 
this impressive function. The President is a short 
man, somewhat spare, but not so much so as his an- 
tagonist, Matos, and with a small head, glossy black 
hair and a Vandyck beard and mustache. Not at all an 
unpleasing-looking person, and with a suggestion of 
a good deal of firmness about the mouth. His eyes 
are of a type which I have frequently seen in men 
shifty by nature, who have trained their eyes to con- 
ceal their true nature that is supposed to look through 
them. Castro’s eyes are those of a careful actor. 

Fully a dozen gentlemen with black coats and 
white shirt-fronts, sat on chairs around the room, 
listening attentively to what the President was say- 
ing. He spoke in a low voice, and without the least 
gesticulation. The scene in that room put me in mind 
of nothing except a Sunday-school class for pupil 
393 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

teachers which it was once my privilege to attend as 
a probationer. Those gentlemen in their “ blacks,” 
listening while their superintendent expounded some- 
thing in the low voice that the class-leader assumes 
when dealing with a particularly sacred topic, were 
qualifying to do a little expounding some day on their 
own account. I for one should like very much to hear 
President Castro explaining to a Sunday-school class 
the story of how he got on. The narrative would 
be an instructive one — an encouraging one to all 
young men with large ambitions and no scruples. 

President Castro is a self-made man. A self-made 
man is one who has made himself rich at the expense 
of his neighbors. He made himself President of his 
country at his country’s expense. It is understood 
that in his early years he was a mule-driver in the 
Andes. It was probably his skill in driving mules 
that suggested to him the possibility of succeeding in 
governing the Venezuelans. The qualifications for 
success in the one direction are precisely the same as 
those which are essential to prosperity in the other. 
I fancy that when a boy he must have got hold of 
a large stock of the literature of piracy, and learning 
how in the old days a pirate captain was accustomed 
to get round him a band of desperadoes, and then to 
march against an unprotected city of which he took 
possession, giving his followers a good time at the 
cost of the citizens, he determined to emulate the deeds 
of such a worthy. We hear of cases of the sort every 
week in the police-courts, only the atmosphere of Eng- 
394 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

land is not congenial to success in such an enter- 
prise. 

Castro was clever enough to know that the Spanish 
Main is to-day pretty much the same as it was two 
hundred years ago. He got together seventy or eighty 
desperadoes — jail-birds and fugitives from justice, 
and began to drill them on his farm. With this faith- 
ful band he marched against Caracas, and when it 
became known on the route that there was employment 
awaiting all who had qualified in ruffianism, his army 
was largely augmented. If this was the only quality 
that the brigand chief insisted on there was no lack 
of a fully qualified army corps. Arriving at the cap- 
ital, which was quite unprotected, Castro demanded 
its surrender. As the President — a man named An- 
drade — had just pocketed literally the last dollar in 
the Treasury, and was on the lookout for a reasonably 
good pretext for flying from the place, he did not hesi- 
tate. He made an exit by the east while Castro en- 
tered from the west, and immediately took up the 
reins of “ government.” 

The good time that he had promised his followers 
was not withheld from them, and they have had a 
good time ever since. The stories that are told of the 
ruffianism of his officers, of the sacking of towns to 
provide them with loot, of the hundreds of men thrown 
into jail and never brought to trial because they are 
suspected of such crimes as asking payment for goods 
which these desperadoes have purchased, would fill 
a volume. It is understood that Castro is worth six 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

or seven million dollars to-day. He has been in the 
habit of collecting every evening the revenues of the 
Custom-Houses which he alone is entitled to “ han- 
dle. He does a good deal of handling of the money 
of the State, and he will probably continue to do so 
in spite of the action recently taken by Great Britain 
and Germany. 

Venezuela has never been very happy in her rulers, 
but not one of them has done so much to ruin the 
country as Castro. Of course no one sympathizes 
with the Venezuelans, unless it be Matos. Every State 
en joys that amount of liberty which it deserves. The 
Venezuelans are, taken en bloc , only a trifle ahead 
of the Haitians in civilization. They have their grand 
opera-house and several delightful parks and public 
gardens they have their bull-ring and many other 
institutions incidental to a high level of civilization; 
but scratch a Venezuelan and you will find a negro. 
The opera-house at Caracas does not represent even 
a veneer of civilization ; it is merely a splash of French 
polish. 

After driving to the beautiful gardens at Plaza 
Mont Calvario, and passing under at least two arches 
erected in commemoration of Liberty and Liberators 
—both memorials of the dead— we got to the railway 
station and returned to La Guayra by the evening 
train. 


396 


CHAPTER XXVIII 

Several of my fellow passengers had taken rooms 
in some of the hotels at Caracas, thinking the city 
preferable to La Guayra for Sunday ; but the major- 
ity returned to the port by the train in which I 
traveled. 

It was with great interest that I saw Jaffray sit- 
ting by the side of Myra Ormsby, her father dis- 
creetly smoking a cigar on the platform of the car. 
(The train passed through several tunnels and lamps 
were not provided.) I noticed one or two of my 
friends, who I could see, were thanking heaven for 
the parsimony of the officials. 

Major Heber was giving Professor Dugdale an ac- 
count of the attempt which he had made to see Presi- 
dent Castro and have a chat w T ith him. 

“ Castro may be a great rascal, but he is a mili- 
tary man, and I think that I could have made it clear 
to him that Buller was very badly used,” I heard 
him say. “I am sure that, bad and all as Castro 
is, he would sympathize with a brave fellow soldier. 
Talk of Venezuela — I don’t believe that even here 
one-half the scandals would be permitted that take 
place daily in the Government of your so-called Brit- 
ish Islands.” 

26 


397 


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In the train I talked for some time to Miss Crofton, 
chiefly on photographic matters, comparing the stand- 
points from which we had worked during the day. I 
found that she was greatest on arches and statues ; in 
gardens and groups I was one or two points ahead of 
her but no more. 

She smiled in a way that struck me as being sad' 
der than tears would have been, saying : 

‘ ‘ I wonder where we shall get these spools of films 
developed? — we don’t touch at Martinique again.” 

I could only shake my head. 

There was a pause before she said : 

“ By the way, the fame of that Mr. Brown, of 
Martinique, seems to have gone round the steamer — 
it must have been you who spoke of him to Mr. Ay- 
toun. ’ ’ 

“ Mr. Aytoun is a suspicious Scotsman, who spends 
all his time putting his own interpretation upon the 
simplest acts of the people around him,” said I. “I 
mentioned the fact that our films had been developed 
by an Englishman at St. Pierre, and he at once jumped 
to the conclusion that only an Englishman who wished 
to escape arrest at home would live at such a place as 
St. Pierre, setting up business as a photographer. He 
asked me some cautious questions regarding ‘ Mr. 
Brown ’—why, even in the name Brown he perceived 
strong confirmation of his worst suspicions— but I did 
not go far in gratifying his curiosity. I thought my- 
self entitled to put him off the right track so far as 
I could. I give you my word, I believe that if we were 
398 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

to touch at Martinique again he would call upon ‘ Mr. 
Brown 7 just to consolidate his theories regarding him. 
He is a regular Sherlock Holmes. I hope you did 
not gratify his curiosity? ” 

“ He began by saying that you had shown him 
your prints, and that you had mentioned that I had 
had some done also at St. Pierre, and begged of me 
to let him see them / 7 said Miss Crofton. “ Of course 
I could not but show them to him. After a few casual 
remarks, he touched, equally casually, upon the man 
who had developed my films, and remarked that it 
was rather strange to find an Englishman engaged in 
such work at a place like St. Pierre . 7 7 

“ And of course you agreed with him? Did he 
say anything more — about the Englishman’s possible 
connection with an English Court of Law? 77 

‘ ‘ Oh, dear no ; he merely asked me what this Mr. 
Brown was like . 7 7 

“ And you told him? 77 

“ I don’t suppose that I gave a detective’s de- 
scription of him ; I dealt only with generalities — he 
was tall, spare, iron-gray hair, clean shaven— that sort 
of description . 7 7 

I laughed heartily. 

“ He did not mention to you that I had described 
‘ Mr. Brown 7 as a small, thick-set, young man with 
a mustache? 77 said I. 

“You did so? 77 cried Miss Crofton, laughing. 
Suddenly she became grave. “You were hardly just 
to— to ‘Mr. Brown, 7 7 7 she said. And I could see 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

that she was rather hurt that I had not made an at- 
tempt to convince Aytoun that the photographer was 
an exceptionally good-looking man. 

“ I could not see why I should play the part of 
Dr. Watson to his Sherlock Holmes,” said I. “ I 
wanted to put him as far off the track as possible.” 

“ You would do well to explain that to him when 
he returns from Caracas to-morrow,” said she. 

“ I don’t feel much inclined just now to do so. 
What business of his was it that I managed to find 
out a photographer who did not wish his name to be 
known, but concealed his identity under the generic 
Brown ? I wish that I had warned you. Those ama- 
teur detectives are irritating. Supposing that he 
should go to Scotland Yard and tell them that he had 
come across an Englishman in hiding at Martinique, 
and that the description he gave them of the man 
corresponded with that of some criminal whose where- 
abouts they had been unable to discover, your friend 
‘ Mr. Brown ’ might be greatly inconvenienced by the 
attentions of the Investigation Department.” 

“ I never thought of that,” said she. “ I do hope 
that Mr. Aytoun will not be so unkind. If I beg of 
him to treat what I told him as strictly confiden- 
tial ” 

“ He would then be so delighted with his own 
shrewdness that nothing would prevent him from 
working out the case to the end — he is a solicitor by 
profession, you must remember. I think that the best 
thing that I can do in the circumstances is to acknowl- 
400 


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edge to him that I had no object in giving him a false 
description of the man except a desire to rebuke his 
prying habits.’ ’ 

Miss Crofton did not make any suggestion as to 
what I should do in the matter. I could see that she 
was lightly annoyed at the whole business, and that 
made me angrier than ever at Aytoun’s prying and 
spying. I was determined to say something rude to 
him on his return from Caracas — he was one of the 
party who were staying the night at the capital. 

The next day I went to fulfil an engagement aboard 
the British cruiser, and after lunch I had a delightful 
sail round the coast in the cutter, returning in time 
for what was termed a ‘ ‘ bull-fight ” at La Guayra. 

Such an exhibition of comedy and cowardice as 
this entertainment I never saw. We walked through 
the narrow and unsavory streets leading from terrace 
to terrace of the slope until we arrived at the arena 
which is three or four hundred feet up the hillside, 
close to one of the yellow forts. The elite of La Guay- 
ra had assembled within the large wooden building 
resembling the circus of a fourth-rate provincial town. 
The elite of La Guayra recalled to me a visit which 
I had once paid to Portland, but there was no dis- 
order. The general run of the people who thronged 
the roads was no worse than might have been ex- 
pected. 

The “ sport ” seemed exhilarating to the native 
spectators. They cheered vociferously when a pro- 
cession of half a dozen of the most scarecrow crew 
401 


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possible to imagine entered the ring — picadors, mata- 
dors, toreadors — we knew them by the dirty finery 
of their costumes, which looked like the cast-off cos- 
tumes of the fourth act of Carmen. When they had 
had enough cheering, a “ bull ” was turned into the 
ring; but the bull was nothing more than a tame 
bullock — one of the sort that one meets in a meadow, 
with “ fringes ” on their foreheads which one pulls 
good-naturedly as one does a dog’s ears. 

The creature seemed frightened, but it meant no 
mischief ; it did not paw the ground nor did it bellow. 
A dirty ruffian thrust two banderillas into its neck, 
and the bullock got irritated ; it made a half-hearted 
charge at the nearest ruffian, and he promptly hid 
himself behind a timber shelter. A second ruffian 
was charged and he jumped up to a ledge that ran 
along the barriers. These exhibitions of cowardly 
agility were received with cheers. Then a mulatto 
wearing a costume that seemed to have been discarded 
by a scarecrow, thrust two more darts into the ani- 
mal and was quickly knocked down, but unfortunately 
he was not killed. After a considerable pause, during 
which the tatterdemalions in the arena chattered 
among themselves, and the bullock stood quietly wait- 
ing for the next “ turn,” a toreador took his life in 
his hands and waved a red cloak before the animal, 
which tossed its head, and very naturally turned its 
nose aside from the garment. By dint of constant 
teasing it became lively, and as it ran about, there 
was not a shelter that had not a gallant bull-fighter 
402 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


on its safe side, the remainder boldly clinging on to 
the ledge five feet from the ground. The bullock 
had cleared the arena of all less noble animals, and 
then it quietly walked through a gate that led out to 
the stables, and we saw it no more. 

As soon as they were quite satisfied that the bul- 
lock would not return, the cowards behind the shelters 
and the poltroons on the ledge came together and re- 
ceived the congratulations of the onlookers at their 
marvelous escape from a horrible death. 

Then another bullock was turned into the arena 
and it was coaxed to toss its head at a moth-eaten 
jacket, sending the tatters into the air. It ran at 
one of its tormentors, and, as before, in an instant 
the place was cleared. The game of hide-and-seek 
went on for half an hour longer, I believe, but having 
had enough “ sport ” to carry me through the Carib- 
bean, I came away. I learned later that one of the 
animals, having been bought by a butcher, was killed 
in the ring. This information made me all the more 
glad that I had left early. If I want particularly 
to see cattle slaughtered I shall get an order to visit 
an abattoir under the control of the London County 
Council. 

«*•••••• 

Mr. Ormsby was having tea with his daughter and 
Jaffray on the deck when I ran up the companion, and 
there were no other passengers in view. He said a 
word or two to his daughter and then beckoned to me. 

4 4 Ho join us,” he cried, beaming with happiness. 

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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


4 4 It is only tea, it is true; but we shall have cham- 
pagne for dinner — and I’ll ask you to drink to the 
health of the young couple — there they are — the young 
couple. ’ 9 

“ Couple? ” I cried, feigning astonishment. 
44 Couple? My dear Miss Ormsby, you have ” 

4 4 She has consented to make him happy — and she 
has made me happy too,” cried the father. He had 
once seen a play with a tableau in it like this, and 
he was now showing that he had a vivid recollection 
of the 44 business 99 of the heavy father. 

I shook hands with the two young people. The 
younger of them gave me one glance and then smiled, 
looking down at the deck. 

44 You predicted a 4 rebuff,’ ” cried Mr. Ormsby, 
pointing a sly forefinger at me. 44 Oh, think of it, 
Myra — he predicted a rebuff.” 

44 I think that I recommended a rebuff,” I said in 
a low voice to Myra. 

44 Yes,” she said with great adroitness. 44 Yes, I 
know that you told me more than once that it was 
my duty ” 

44 I made no attempt to coerce you, now did I? ” 
said Mr. Ormsby. 44 If you accepted him you did 
so of your own free will. Duty is one thing and love 
is another.” 

44 In this ease the two are happily combined, Mr. 
Ormsby,” said I, affecting the bonhomie of the friend 
of the family, as I had last seen the part played in 
a Criterion comedy. If I had thought that I should 
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SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


ever need to play the part I would have paid more 
attention to the acting. “ Happy is the girl who 
knows what is her duty and does it.” 

“ Her mother will be glad to hear what has hap- 
pened; oh, her mother is a very clever woman — clev- 
erer than all of us put together, ’ ’ said Mr. Ormsby ; 
and I quite believe that he spoke the truth. 

That evening I set about being rude to Aytoun, 
who had returned from Caracas with a story about 
another attempted extortion on the part of the hotel 
people. But he had got the better of them. They 
had taken him for an Englishman, being so ignorant 
as not to be able to differentiate between an English- 
man and a Scotsman. 

‘ ‘ I should like to know what you meant by asking 
Miss Crofton to give you a description of the pho- 
tographer Brown whom we visited at Martinique,” 
said I, when we were alone. 

He smiled and stroked his chin, and then he said : 

“ I should like to know what you meant by giving 
me a false description of Photographer Brown whom 
you visited at Martinique.” 

“ I did it because I did not wish to gratify your 
idle curiosity,” said I. 

“ My — m y — ‘ idle curiosity ’1 ” said he with a 
peculiar smile. 

“ That is what I said — ‘ idle curiosity,’ ” I cried. 

“ My good friend,” said he, slowly. “ If I hadn’t 
been very well supplied with what you call ‘ idle curi- 
405 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

osity/ I might have gone away and thought no more 
of the matter. It was my ‘ idle curiosity ’ that made 
me go to Miss Crofton for the truth.’ ’ 

‘ ‘ And now that you have got the truth ? ’ ’ 

“ Don’t you trouble yourself further — it would 
show 4 idle curiosity ’ on your part to inquire what 
I intend to do.” 

"I’m not greatly interested in the matter, my 
dear Aytoun ; all that I can do is to assure you that 
the man in question is not a fugitive from justice.” 

“ I can see that you are greatly interested in the 
matter, said he. “ You know who the man is, Miss 
Crofton knows who the man is, and I know who the 
man is.” 

“ Are you sure that you do? ” I asked. 

Am I sure ? I was pretty nearly sure when I 
saw his handwriting in that letter which you threw 
across the table to me. But I thought it best to make 
sure. Man, I’m telling you that if I hadn’t the cau- 
tion as well as the courage of my opinions, I might 
have owned myself wrong — a thing I don’t often have 
occasion to do — and Hugh Beaumont would have had 
to thank you for an unlimited exile.” 

“ But I understand that that is just what he wants 
— an undisturbed exile,” said I. 

“ He probably wanted it before he got my tele- 
gram yesterday,” said Mr. Aytoun. “ But here’s the 
reply that I received from him to-day.” 

He handed me a telegram, which I read. 

I leave for Barbados await return Amazon 
406 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

was the text of this document. I was becoming more 
amazed every minute. 

“ Does this mean that Beaumont will meet us on 
our return to Barbados? ” I inquired. 

“ Me — will meet me. I don’t believe that he is 
over-anxious to meet you, though you do sometimes 
appear cleverer than you really are,” said the Scots- 
man. “ Man, I paid two pound nine and eightpence 
for the telegram that I sent to St. Pierre yesterday. 
I only hope that I’ll get it out of the estate.” 

“ You must have put a lot into it,” said I. 

“ That means that you want badly to know what 
I did put into it,” said he. “ Man, this ‘ idle curios- 
ity ’ is a sore curse.” 

“ I take everything back. Tell me the whole 
story,” I cried. 

“ Ah, now you’re talking,” said he. “ But there’s 
not much of a story. I belong to the firm of solicitors 
that wound up the estate of Mr. Beaumont. The cred- 
itors were paid in full — don’t think that we gave that 
foolish advice to the son; the thing was all his own 
doing. Among the securities was a bundle of shares 
in an American speculation which were then quite 
unsalable — an English firm would have sold them as 
waste paper — that’s the difference between English 
and Scots. For eight years the shares were worth 
nothing, but to-day, owing to the demand for car- 
tridge-cases, they are worth eighty thousand pounds 
— the last dividend they paid was 42 per cent. We 
have spent over five hundred pounds advertising 
407 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


for the owner of this property, and yon tried your 
best to put me off the track. ’ ’ 

I sat down on the nearest deck-chair and wiped 
my forehead. The man’s story was just too much 
for me. 

‘ ‘ Miss Crofton — did you tell her of this ? ’ ’ 1 man- 
aged to say at last. 

“ Miss Crofton? Was she so interested? ” 

I jumped up and hastened to where Miss Crofton 
was sitting. I asked her if she would mind coming 
down to the saloon for a minute. She said a word 
of surprise and complied. It did not take me long 
to tell her all that I had heard. When all was told 
she bowed her face down to the table at which we 
were sitting. Then she put out a cold hand to me, and 
rising slowly, walked down the saloon in the direction 
of her cabin. She seemed guiding herself from pillar 
to pillar down the whole length of the saloon. 

We left La Guayra and the Spanish Main on our 
return to Barbados the next day. We were watching 
the gamboling of a school of porpoises in the distance, 
when Mr. Gilbertson came behind me, saying: 

“ I’m so sorry to bother you, but would you mind 
telling me what is the name of that island? ” 

Hugh Beaumont came aboard the steamer at Bar- 
bados almost before the anchor was let go. Miss Crof- 
ton was waiting for him. They shook hands quite 
pleasantly, and Mrs. Heber said : 

A new passenger, I suppose. Miss Crofton seems 
to have met him before.” 

408 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 


“ Yes/’ I replied. “ I believe she did meet him 
before. ’ ’ 

At Barbados this company of shipmates whom I 
at least had found so very companionable, separated. 
Some were going back to England, some on to Jamai- 
ca, others to Colon and Carthagena. I had some fur- 
ther cruising in sunshine, but the only group of my 
old friends who accompanied me was that which in- 
cluded Mr. and Mrs. Krux, with Miss Hope and Major 
Wingfield. 

The day after leaving Barbados, I was, like Sir 
Bedivere, “ revolving many memories ” in my deck- 
chair close to where the Kruxes were sitting, Miss 
Hope between them. Major Wingfield came up, and 
I heard him ask the girl if she would care to come 
on the bridge with him and see the sunset or some- 
thing. 

Then it was that Mrs. Krux put out a hand to 
check the girl’s movement. 

“ Major Wingfield,” I heard her say, “ I think it 
right to tell you frankly that I and Mr. Krux are de- 
termined ” 

I did not hear further, but I saw that Wingfield 
was laughing with great geniality. 

‘ ‘ I think that you have every reason, Mrs. Krux, ’ ’ 
said he. “ But I don’t think you will carry out your 
intention when you have seen this.” 

He drew out a telegram from his pocket and hand- 
ed it to Mrs. Krux. She took it. 

“ And this,” said Miss Hope, handing her another 
which she also took. 


409 


SHIPMATES IN SUNSHINE 

She put on her spectacles and read first one and 
then the other, Wingfield standing by with an amused 
expression. But the expression on the face of the 
girl was one of serene gravity. 

Mrs. Krux folded up the telegrams. 

‘ ‘ Of course, if her father has telegraphed his con- 
sent/’ she said. 

The girl was on her feet in a moment, and she 
and Wingfield made their way to the bridge and 
looked out upon the golden track to the west. But 
I have seen much more glorious sunsets in these wa- 
ters than that which was unrolled like a curtain made 
of cloth of gold, with a ground of purple and fringes 
of crimson. This is the curtain which was rung down 
at the end of the first act of the lover’s comedy. 


THE END 


410 



OCT 36 1903 


















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